34
All the clothing she’d found at garage sales, auctions, and resale stores—the entire inventory of Violet Vintage—they’d moved all of it into Charlie’s basement. It was dry down there, and mostly empty except for the wine cellar. She opened a door off the kitchen and flicked on a light switch to lead her guest down the old wooden stairs.
Six racks of clothing, each garment’s price indicated by a small paper tag attached to a length of pink string. When the reality that she would never open a storefront presented itself years ago, she’d had the intentions of someday organizing at least a garage sale. Sell all these clothes and put them toward the girls’ college or something. But somehow, she could never find the time even for that. And so, these beautiful garments just hung there, waiting to be worn once more.
But now she wanted to be free of these old things that were weighing her down. And more than that even, she wanted, for the first time in her life, to splurge.
You’re selling it all? Diane asked.
Yes, all of it is for sale. One lot. I’d prefer it if you took everything. So I can stop moving all these clothes around.
You’re ready to make a deal then?
I’m ready to make a deal.
Diane’s fingers parted the garments, considering each one, before moving on to the next rack. Rack to rack. Occasionally she peered at her phone, Vivian suspected, to check comparable prices on eBay. It took her twenty minutes to peer through everything.
Look, I’m not going to add everything up. So let me just make you a flat offer.
Vivian had, in fact, already added up the total sum of all the garments, as tagged, and that number came to just over six thousand dollars. She figured if she could get half of that, she’d spin a little profit. I’m all ears, Vivian said.
Four thousand. Diane reached into her purse and showed Vivian a thick wad of cash. I’ve got the cash right here actually. I’ll take everything for four.
Vivian suppressed a smile, crossed her arms, and said, Four thousand five hundred.
Forty-two fifty.
Deal.
Deal?
Deal.
The two women shook hands.
Can I help you load all this into your van? Vivian offered.
Absolutely, Diane said. And oh, here’s your money.
Vivian accepted the cash, slipped the bills into her pocket, and felt light as a breeze. A sailboat suddenly and smartly discovered by a gust, the canvas billowing, that lightness, she imagined, of wind guiding a boat across a body of water. Her life was surging now, gaining speed, and she could hardly wait to see what was out and ahead of her.