Chapter Eight #2
As he disentangled himself, David said slowly, “You didn’t want attention from it.”
“I expect my profile picture doesn’t help, either,” added Meredith.
David frowned in confusion. “But it’s just that photo I took last summer of you and Kinley at—oh. Oh.”
Kinley sitting on a park bench, Meredith leaning in to wrap his arms around him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.
Meredith gazing at him in adoration, Kinley returning a sideways look of mock exasperation.
A moment of affection between two best friends, who happened to be a few shades apart in skin color.
“Yeah,” said Meredith. “And I ain’t about to change it, either.”
“No, of course not.”
“Anyway, enough of that.” Meredith managed a wan smile. “S’pose you’ve got to be getting back, but I’ll walk over with you. Wouldn’t mind doing a bit of shopping now that I’m here.”
They crossed the lobby and emerged onto the sales floor proper, through which one had to pass in order to reach the back stairway to the upper offices.
By the time they made it to the cosmetics counter, Meredith had brightened up again and was back to chattering away about nothing of consequence as they progressed into the men’s department.
Perhaps, David thought, he could make his escape if he dodged past the pair of warlocks examining a selection of handkerchiefs, or perhaps if he managed to tunnel through that sale rack of winter coats—
No, the whole thing was likely to collapse on him if he tried that. He envisioned himself buried beneath an avalanche of outerwear, slowly suffocating under a heap of duffel coats and Alpine hats.
Then again, that might be the preferable alternative.
When Meredith abruptly fell silent, David first thought he’d missed his cue to reply—but no, Meredith’s attention had merely drifted.
David followed his wistful gaze to the mezzanine where ladies’ formalwear was displayed—in particular, to the mannequin modeling a floor-length gown in emerald green.
“You can’t be serious.” While David took no issue with that particular aspect of his housemate’s unconventional fashion sense, he had no intention of sanctioning his proclivity toward excess and impracticality; those, he considered fair game.
“Where would you ever have the need to wear an evening gown?”
“Ah, well, s’pose you’re right, it’d be a waste. Although,” Meredith mused, “perhaps something more like that little number over there with the daring neckline in the back, what do you think?”
“Schwarzy!” Steve Corner’s strident voice broke into the conversation as he hurried over to them. “Carew,” he added with considerably less enthusiasm.
As glad as David was of the interruption, he couldn’t find it in himself to be glad that it came courtesy of the store manager.
Steve Corner was a man of average height and average build, unremarkable in both features and manner aside from a grating voice and a tendency to talk in ad copy.
There was something indefinably unpleasant about the glittering hardness of his eyes and the way they tended to linger—particularly on people such as Paulette from IT and Minh from the perfume counter.
David couldn’t stand him, and he suspected the feeling was mutual.
“Hi, Steve.” Meredith air-kissed him, and David scowled.
“I didn’t realize the two of you knew each other,” he said. But of course Meredith knew everyone, and everyone knew him, if as nothing more than a local eccentric.
Meredith leaned back against a rack of parkas, draping one arm over it. The position lifted the hem of his shirt, and Corner’s eyes drifted downward to the exposed sliver of pale skin. David suppressed the urge to reach over and adjust it for him.
“Actually,” said Corner, “you are just the…thing I wanted to see.”
Instead of taking offense, Meredith only giggled at that. “Oh, yeah?”
“I expect Carew’s told you about our silent auction coming up?”
“No, not a word!”
#62: He has been told about it on no fewer than three separate occasions over the past week.
“You don’t say.” Corner narrowed his eyes at David, who glared right back. “Well, as it happens, our annual charity auction is the week after next, and since this is our centennial anniversary, we’re going all out this year.”
“Is that so?” asked Meredith politely.
Corner nodded. “The auction is the kickoff for a month of celebratory events commemorating the founding of the Corner Store by Josiah Corner a century ago. It’s quite the exclusive affair.”
David marveled at the man’s ability to sound exactly like a promotional pamphlet.
While it was true that the auction was invitation only, anyone who made a suitable donation was invited, whether said donation took the form of an outright monetary contribution or goods to be auctioned.
David’s attendance was already secured, but it occurred to him that if he could solicit a donation from Meredith, perhaps that would be sufficient to gain him admission to the VIP lounge.
Clearly Corner was angling for the same thing (that and a fair bit more, David suspected, if those suggestive glances were anything to go by), but if he could beat Corner to it—well, surely the initiative had to count for something.
“Speaking of the auction,” David began, “we are still accepting—”
“Yes, thank you, Carew,” interrupted Corner. “That’s just what I was getting at myself.”
David forced a smile, but inwardly he was seething. This should have been his chance, and Meredith was his housemate. Still, David attempted to console himself, perhaps that association might be enough for Meredith’s inevitable agreement to count as a point in his favor after all.
“We’re seeking donations from local merchants and artists,” Corner continued. “Paintings, pottery, gift vouchers, what have you. If you could see your way to offering, say, a free session—”
“I could—” Meredith paused, sending a searching glance at David.
Apparently having taken to heart the recent scolding on the subject of his wanton philanthropy, Meredith amended, “I couldn’t, but if you’re looking for artwork, I’ve a handful of drawings I could part with, so long as you don’t mind if they’re not framed. ”
David tried not to grimace. Meredith’s artwork was, charitably, something of an acquired taste, as Corner—and everyone else in attendance at the auction—would soon find out.
“Spectacular!” said Corner. “I knew you’d come through for us. Trust me, you won’t regret it—our silent auction is northeast Ohio’s event of the season.”
“Course it is,” said Meredith with an easy grin. “Can’t wait.”