Chapter Twenty
Even though I’d arrived a half hour prior to the time Trixie Lynn told me to be at the sale, things were bustling. Many of the people seemed to have taken their duties into their own hands as if they’d done this many times before.
I supposed they had. I was the outsider.
After decades in the same church where I worked as efficiently as these women, it was odd to feel disconnected. I’d only begun to figure out where the coffee cups were stored in this place. We’d be gone before I could find the sugar packets.
A woman I’d chatted with briefly several times after church service smiled at me. “Trixie Lynn had to get a last minute donation from someone’s car,” she said. “She’ll be right back. In the meantime, let’s get you a cup of coffee. You’re going to need it.”
I gratefully accepted the sturdy paper cup she filled with coffee.
“Thanks so much for helping us,” she said. “Visitors rarely do. They attend mass and depart, like it was drive-by communion, one more thing to check off their list. Somehow I think they’ve forgotten the root of the church, gathering to celebrate our beliefs together.”
I sipped my coffee, not in a mood to talk philosophy this morning. There were too many things already racing through my mind: working the sale without incurring the wrath of Trixie Lynn or the sister-in-law, my dinner later with Rodrigo, and how I was going to explain Michael’s actions to my sisters.
Because I knew I was going to have to do that soon. The secret had begun to fester within me and was going to erupt in a very nasty way unless I did something about it.
“Oh, there you are!” Trixie Lynn came toward me with a box of what looked like salt and pepper shakers. “Just in time. Can you give these a quick clean and get them on one of the glassware tables? You’re so good at cleaning.”
Her smile was almost perfect. The lack of warmth in her eyes as she looked down her nose at me gave it away.
The image of an Irish washerwoman, her hair bound up by a kerchief, a full apron tied around her ample body, rose up between us.
I knew the slight for exactly what it was .
“Sure,” I said, took the box, and trudged back to the outdoor sink. She didn’t see my smile.
And she didn’t need to know I was the one with the Valentine’s Day dinner invitation.
Once I got the salt and pepper shaker collection back to its table, I refilled the coffee cup and went to find her.
She was at the front door, welcoming in the clergy as they came to inspect and bless our activities. I waited until all of the ceremonial activities were complete, then approached her for my assignment. I’d promised myself I’d be as pleasant as possible while I worked. The proceeds were going to support a homeless shelter for immigrants stuck in limbo while they waited for the government to decide what to do with them.
It was a good cause, and I owed it my best.
However, when Trixie Lynn assigned me to the table also run by Rodrigo’s sister-in-law, my resolve slipped. Trixie Lynn had a nasty streak. She knew exactly how miserable my time was going to be.
Even though I knew better, the woman tried to convince me she spoke nothing more than a few words of English, limiting her conversation to orders combined with a robust vocabulary of gestures.
She let her fa?ade slip when she was trying to convince a woman that she absolutely needed a hideous vase that belonged in a Victorian parlor two centuries ago. I watched in awe as she deftly parted the woman from her money and handed her the vase with a triumphant smile on her face.
“Well done,” I said to her when she was finished. “Now cut the crap and talk to me like I’m a human being.”
“Hmpf. You don’t deserve it. You are taking my cousin’s place.”
“She doesn’t want Rodrigo. If I know that, then you know that.”
“My cousin is sheltered. She doesn’t know the importance of a man of stature, someone who is established, who has his own ranch.”
Who has money …?
“She is a traditional woman,” the sister-in-law continued. “She knows how to take care of a man. She’s like my sister. She devoted herself to Rodrigo. My cousin will do the same. He’ll be a happy man.”
“Are you sure he wants that?” I asked, keeping my eye out for prospective customers as we talked.
“Of course he does. He’s a man. Men want to be taken care of. They want to feel like they are king of all they see, and that includes their women. ”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s an incredibly old-fashioned view of a relationship.”
“It works for my husband and me,” she said stiffly. “That’s probably why you don’t have a husband. You are one of those career women.”
I was saved from a reply that would have gotten me in trouble by the approach of two women who were looking for a particular brand of collectible. Having washed every bit of glass on the surrounding tables, I knew what they were seeking and that we had some of it.
“I’ll be right back,” I said and quickly perused the hodgepodge of things. Within a few moments, I held up the treasures.
The two women clapped their hands and took the pieces, thanking me profusely.
I gave the sister-in-law a triumphant smile as I walked back to the table.
She glared at me.
And just like that, it was on.
We were both so busy making sales we didn’t have time to argue with each other. I had an edge because I knew what we had. She had one because she knew the people who were in attendance and what they were looking for.
Between us, we made a formidable team, and our table began to empty quickly.
“My, you ladies are working hard,” Trixie Lynn said as she walked by our table at one point. “It looks like I’ll be able to tell the Father that we have lots of money to donate.” Then she strutted like a beauty queen to the next table.
“Bruja,” the sister-in-law muttered under her breath.
I had no idea what it meant, but it couldn’t be good.
“I agree,” I said anyway.
That earned me a grudging smile, if a slight lift of corners on a straight line of a mouth could be called a smile.
The tension between us eased a little. We still fought for every customer, but the rivalry had become a little less antagonistic.
As the ancient proverb said, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
By the time lunchtime arrived, I was starving. Selling other people’s junk was hard work.
Another group of women had prepped lunch for the workers: small sandwiches, a few salads, the inevitable chips and salsa, all washed down with iced tea, sweetened or not. I filled my plate and sat at one of the small tables that had been laid out for us. Two women were already there, one of whom I recognized from church. We chitchatted pleasantly while we ate.
Trixie Lynn buzzed from table to table, and I steeled myself for her arrival. One of the women had left by the time she reached us.
“We’re having a fabulous sale,” she gushed. “I think it’s the best it’s ever been!”
“People stared at their stuff during the pandemic,” the other woman said. “And they started to wonder why they were keeping it. This is a great opportunity to get rid of things.”
“But they’re buying more,” Trixie Lynn pointed out.
“One man’s junk is another man’s treasure,” I said. “And that’s so true at a sale. People think they’re getting something special for not much at all.”
“You have a point,” the woman said, rising. “I’d better relieve my tablemate.”
That left Trixie Lynn and I together at the table sharing an uncomfortable moment of silence.
Then she leaned forward.
“He’s not what you think he is,” she hissed.
I didn’t respond, instead picking up my last tortilla chip and snapping off half of it with a loud crunch.
“He cheated on her, you know.”
I crunched the other half. Loudly.
“She was pregnant with their fourth child. Have you had children?”
I nodded, then inspected my empty plate for more evidence to display my total lack of interest. Not that I wasn’t interested. I was. It was why I simply didn’t get up from the table and leave. But I had to know what she was talking about.
I just didn’t want her to know it.
My tea wasn’t finished. I took a sip and put the glass down, making sure the ice cubes rattled.
“Then you know,” Trixie Lynn droned on. “A woman looks and feels like a beached whale. I only had one, and that was it for me. I can’t imagine enduring five. Especially when your man is cheating on you.” She leaned back. “It’s good for you that you’re leaving. He’d never be faithful to you. I’m not sure he can be true to anyone. That’s why I plan on keeping him on a very short leash. Once you’re out of the way, the coast will be clear.”
I allowed my gaze to shift to our table where the sister-in-law was completing another sale.
Trixie Lynn waved her away. “The cousin isn’t interested. She’s already got a man. No, you’ve been my only problem.”
I didn’t think I’d ever been in a situation with another woman where the gloves were nowhere to be seen. In fact, I’d never been in this kind of conversation before. I had no real rivals for Michael once he’d settled on me and the ranch as the prize he was after. As far as I knew, we’d both been true to our vows.
I had had no idea it could get so nasty in the secondary market of widows, divorcées, and an imbalanced ratio of women to men.
“I’m sure he’s bought me something nice for Valentine’s Day,” she said as she stood. “He’s always done something nice in the past. He won’t want to lose me since you’re leaving. I’ll wait you out, so enjoy yourself while you can.”
With a little wave, she left me alone to unearth myself from the pounds of garbage she’d thrown my way.
I was on my way back to the table when the cousin came up to me, a good-looking man attached to her hand.
“It is him!” she said excitedly, pointing to the man next to her. “I tell her.” She pointed to the sister-in-law and let loose a waterfall of beautiful sounds, none of which I understood.
The cousin dragged the man over to my table where the sister-in-law waited.
Instead of following, I lingered at other tables, pretending to be interested in some of the items.
There was an explosion of Spanish.
When I looked around, the two women were talking as much with their hands as they were with their mouths.
By the time I reached the table, the level had somewhat subsided.
“I told her,” the cousin said. “She nice now.”
I had no answer that was going to win me any friends, so I wisely kept my mouth shut.
The cousin left, dragging the man, who’d said nothing during the entire exchange, behind her.
“Bah,” the sister-in-law said. “Stupid girl to throw away Rodrigo.” She shrugged. “But it is her wish. Rodrigo is yours.”
I looked around and quickly walked to the nearest person to see if they were interested in glassware.
The sooner I got out of this madhouse, the better.
Except, once I did that, I was dropping from the frying pan dead center into the fire.