New Uses For Old Boyfriends (22 page)

“Whatever you want.”

“Oookay.”
Lila knelt down and scratched the spaniel's soft, curly-furred ears. The dog responded by pressing its head against her hand, seeking more affection. “We'll take you to the vet and get this all sorted out. And in the meantime, you need a name. How about Rudi?”

“I like it.” Daphne seized the monokini and shot Tara a look of triumph. “Rudi works for a boy or a girl.”

“Great.” The blonde surrendered the leash and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “So how much will you give me for all this stuff?”

Daphne produced her calculator and eyeglasses (which she insisted on wearing during financial transactions because they made her “look and feel smarter”). She motioned the girl closer and they went back and forth for about three seconds.

“Done.” The girl gasped at her newest text message and responded with such vehemence, Lila was surprised she didn't sprain her thumbs.

Tara turned on her heel and strode toward the door. “You haven't seen the last of me.”

“I look forward to our rematch.” Daphne retreated into the back room with the Peggy Hunts and Carolyn Schnurers, openly gloating and congratulating herself.

Lila found herself alone in the showroom with Rudi. “So I guess I'll take the dog outside?” she called after her mother.

“Have fun!”

“And you're okay with being in here alone while I'm gone?”

“Don't be silly, sweet pea. I'm not helpless.”

“Then I'll be back after lunch. Maybe you can help me figure out what to wear tonight.”

Her mother reappeared in the doorframe. “Another date with the delectable marine?”

“Yeah, but this time I'm not sharing his outfit. I want to wear my own, and I want to look hot. Like, spontaneous-combustion hot.”

“Consider it done,” Daphne said. “Give me some context. What's the occasion?”

“Yearbook signing.”

“What?”

“I need a little something that says, ‘Have a great summer' with a wink and a smile. Don't let me down.”

“R
udi, you're adorable.” Jenna had located a packet of oyster crackers somewhere in the Whinery's stockroom and offered a handful of snacks to the spaniel on the pink and black welcome mat outside the bar. “How could anyone ever give you up?”

“It was brutal. His owner didn't even kiss him good-bye,” Lila said. The little dog rolled over for a belly rub, and Lila obliged.

Summer walked over from the historical society building to join them. “Who is this little cutie paws?”

“Rudi,” Lila replied.

Summer knelt next to Lila and took over belly rub duty. Rudi wriggled with joy, his stubby little tail thumping against the concrete. “I didn't know you were getting a dog.”

“I wasn't planning on it. But my mother agreed to take him in exchange for a topless swimsuit from the sixties. Just another day in the vintage clothing business.”

“I wish I could take him home with me.” Summer moved on to scratching the underside of Rudi's jaw, which elicited near paroxysms of canine glee. “Ingrid would love to have a dog, but Dutch
is allergic. He had to mainline Claritin the last time we went to a Humane Society fund-raiser.”

“But
he
probably had the common decency to use Kleenex instead of Thierry Mugler,” Lila muttered.

“What, now?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me more about this topless swimsuit,” Jenna said.

“Yeah,” Summer chimed in. “Isn't ‘topless swimsuit' really just another term for ‘bikini bottoms'?”

“No. It's . . .” Lila turned up her palms. “Words alone can't do it justice. You have to see it to believe it.”

“I'm free until two.” Summer got to her feet. “Let's go. My spring wardrobe could use a little pizzazz. Oh, and speaking of pizzazz, that reminds me—one of Ingrid's friends is signing up for some sort of pageant. She needs a fancy evening gown for the formal wear competition, but her budget is practically nonexistent. I don't suppose you guys have anything you could lend her?”

Lila's mind flashed to the former Miss Delaware. “Call Ingrid and ask her if she can drop by the store. I may have exactly what she's looking for. Sash and tiara sold separately.”

*   *   *

“Wow, check it out.” Half an hour later, Ingrid ran her hands along the crystal beading on the bodice of the royal blue gown. The tiny facets reflected the light and cast flecks of gold across the walls. “I think I'm blind in one eye now.”

“That's a lot of dress,” Summer marveled.

“This gown got a former Miss Delaware all the way to the top five in the Miss America pageant,” Lila informed them.

Ingrid got right down to business. “How much? It's for my friend Mia.”

“Mia Lintz?” Summer kind of choked. “The girl who helped you study for AP chemistry? The one with the eyebrows?”

“She's getting them waxed,” Ingrid said defensively.

“Eyebrows wants to enter some teen miss thing?”

Ingrid nodded. “She wants the prize money. I guess they offer pretty good scholarships.”

“Well, I'd be happy to give her the dress for free,” Lila said, “since it's you guys—”

“Thanks,” Summer said. “We'll make it up to you in post-fashion-show revenue.”

“—but according to Miss Delaware, you need more than a sparkly gown to win these things.”

“Oh, Mia has a great platform,” Ingrid assured them. “Her whole thing is getting girls involved in science and engineering programs. Dutch is helping her with her public speaking skills.”

Summer remained skeptical. “What's her talent?”

“Reciting the periodic table of elements.”

Lila and Summer exchanged a look. “She really thinks she can win with an eight-year-old gown and the periodic table of elements?”

Ingrid shrugged. “It was either that or play the banjo. And, I mean, it's just walking around in heels and a pretty dress. How hard can it be?”

Lila, who had often heard her television job described as “just smiling and talking for a few hours,” knew exactly how hard such undertakings could be. “I'll wrap up the dress and you can take it home with you. Mia can try it on and decide if it's what she's looking for. If it's not, just bring her in and we'll find her something else.”

Summer shook her head. “I'm sure it'll be great. This whole plan is foolproof; what could go wrong?!”

“You're such a cynic,” Ingrid said.

Summer wandered back toward the dressing room, where Daphne was changing a mannequin's outfit from the sneezed-upon petal dress to a freshly dry-cleaned black mermaid gown. “So I heard a rumor about a monokini?”

Daphne dropped everything and clutched Summer's forearms. “Have you ever seen one?”

“I've never even heard of one until today.”

“Well, prepare to have your breath taken away. Follow me—it's in the back room.”

While Daphne practically dragged Summer off to the storage area, Ingrid remained by the cash register.

“Well?” she asked Lila. “Did you find the perfect wedding gown yet?”

“‘Perfect' might be a tall order,” Lila hedged. “How about this?” She pulled out a navy silk chiffon gown painted with metallic streaks. “You said she likes gold.”

Ingrid dismissed it with toss of her head. “Eh.”

“Eh? This is a Zandra Rhodes! There's nothing ‘eh' about Zandra Rhodes.”

“It's not right for Summer and Dutch's wedding. Nothing in here is right.” Ingrid's big gray eyes managed to look both disdainful and disappointed at the same time. “We'll know it when we see it.”

“I'll keep my eyes open,” Lila promised. “In the meantime, I might be able to hook you up with a few pageant tips for your friend.” She flipped through the store records and dialed up the former Miss Delaware. “Hi, Shannon, it's Lila at Unfinished Business. Yes, we found a buyer for your dress. . . . Well, it's a local teenager who's about to enter her first pageant and I was wondering if you—what's that? What's her talent?” Lila cleared her throat. “I believe it will involve”—she tried to slur her words—“reciting the periodic table of the elements. . . .”

Ingrid watched while Lila listened to Shannon go on a five-minute, epic rant.

“Yep.” Lila held the phone a few centimeters away from her ear. “Got it. Absolutely. I will pass that along.”

When she finally hung up the phone, Ingrid asked, “Pass what along?”

“The bad news is, Miss Delaware says there's no way the periodic table of the elements is going to get your friend to the semifinals, let alone the crown. She says it's going to be a waste of her dress.”

“Whatever. It's not even
her
dress anymore.” Ingrid nodded toward the phone. “You call her back and you tell her—”

“Hang on, hang on. She also asked me to pass along her phone number and tell Mia to give her a call.”

“For what?” Ingrid sneered. “Tips on blonde-on-blonde hazing and double-sided tape?”

“Hold your fire,” Lila counseled. “Because the good news is, she's offering to be Mia's pageant coach.”

Ingrid looked confused and somewhat suspicious. “That's a real thing?”

“Apparently. She's offering to do it on a volunteer basis.”

Ingrid gave her a sideways glance. “Why?”

Lila shrugged. “She doesn't have a daughter and I think she wants to share all her pageant wisdom. Think of it like a secret sale: buy a gown, get a free consultation from a state champion.”

“What's the catch?” Ingrid demanded.

“How did you know there's a catch?”

“There's always a catch.”

“And you say Summer's a cynic.” Lila smiled. “Well, remember how I said she doesn't have a daughter? She has two sons, with two more on the way. So the catch is, you guys will have to coordinate pageant training with nap time. Do you think Mia can do that?”

“I'm sure she can.” Ingrid looked around the little shop with an air of wonder. “That's pretty amazing, that she just offered to help like that.”

“Yeah, well, this town has some pretty amazing people in it. And they're very attached to their old dresses.”

“Yeah, but that's incredible, right? It's like fate. It's like it was meant to be.”

“Maybe it is,” Lila replied as her mother and Summer reemerged from the back room. “Or maybe it's all just a question of luck and timing.”

As if to prove her point, the little bell on the boutique's door chimed and Lila's ex-boyfriend/water-heater repairman/landlord walked in, accompanied by an outdoorsy-looking young woman with wild dark curls, kind hazel eyes, and not a trace of makeup. She wore sturdy hiking boots, tattered olive shorts, and a baggy magenta tank top layered over a black sports bra. Lila would bet good money that this woman's panties didn't match her bra.

She could also tell from a single glance at Ben's face that this woman was the love of his life.

And when the love of his life smiled back at him, she didn't look at him as though he were a varsity football star or the golden boy who'd inherited his father's company. She treated him like a man who was determined to prove himself and build his own future. She saw him in a completely different light than Lila ever would.

These two didn't know each other's entire life histories, but they had their own shared story that no one else would ever be privy to.

“Ben!” Daphne rushed forward and threw her arms around him. “What a lovely surprise!”

“You must be Allison.” Lila stepped forward to give Ben's companion a perfunctory, show-business-style hug.

“And you must be Lila,” Allison said. She even
smelled
fresh and wholesome, like lavender shampoo or laundry soap.

Daphne glanced from Lila to Ben to Allison, first with confusion, then with a bit of dismay. “Welcome to our little corner of the world, Allison. You must be Ben's . . .”

“Girlfriend.” She took his hand and they looked at each other with adolescent adoration. “Soon-to-be fiancée. Maybe.”

“Definitely,” Ben said. “I was telling her about the new properties we're working with, so I thought we'd drop by. Sorry to interrupt.”

“You're not interrupting,” Summer assured them. “We were just leaving. I've got to get back to grant proposal prison.”

Ingrid waited until Summer was out the door, then regarded Lila with those big gray doe eyes. “Wedding dress.”

“I'm on it,” Lila vowed.

“Sooner rather than later.”

“I hear you!”

Ingrid exited, carrying the pageant gown in a bulky paper shopping bag, and Daphne turned back to the man she had desperately hoped might be meant for her daughter.

“So, Allison!” She clapped her hands. “How are you enjoying your visit?”

Allison glanced over at Ben before answering. “It's great.”

“Mm-hmm?” Daphne prompted.

“It's really . . . different.” She adjusted the shoulder strap of her tank top. “I've met Ben's parents before, but I've never been to his hometown.”

“And how long will you be staying?” Daphne pressed.

Lila nudged her mother's ankle with the side of her shoe. “Mom.”

Daphne batted her eyelashes, all inquisitive innocence. “What?”

“I'm just here for the weekend,” Allison said.

“Allison's finishing her master's program,” Ben bragged. “I'm trying to convince her to move here afterward.”

“Goodness, isn't that a bit fast?” Daphne wondered aloud. “How long have you two been together?”

This time, it was less of a nudge and more of a kick.
“Mom.”

“Calm down, pumpkin,” Daphne whispered. “I'm just making conversation.”

“I have to be back in Boston on Monday afternoon,” Allison said. “But I have finals in a few weeks, and after that . . .” Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed. “We'll see. Ben's been very convincing.”

Ben caught Lila's gaze and mouthed, “Thanks.”

“If you're used to big-city life, Black Dog Bay might be a bit of a shock,” Daphne cautioned. “I moved here from New York, and it was quite an adjustment. Thirty-five years later, I'm
still
waiting for a decent sushi place.”

“But small-town life is great in other ways,” Ben added heartily.

“Absolutely,” Lila agreed. “The ocean is right there. . . .”

Allison's smile wavered. “I can go to the ocean in Boston.”

Daphne kept going. “There are no gourmet restaurants, no museums, no independent theaters; all the stores close so early. . . .”

Lila barely restrained herself from physically covering her mother's mouth. “We have a ghost dog. And a wine bar that serves free candy.”

Allison turned to admire a printed floral dress in the window display. “Well, the fashion scene seems to be thriving. Look at these pieces.”