Chapter 12 #2
The shop was deceptively large. It appeared quite small and narrow from the street, but it was long, allowing for different sections within the store. There were light, feminine dresses near the window, but I spied jeans and sweaters, coats and gloves, even shoes farther in.
I noticed the woman looking me over. She smiled and said, “I thought that was you. Welcome back, Katie. I was wondering when you’d stop by.”
I stared a minute, not able to place her. “I’m sorry.” I shook my head, embarrassed.
“It’s Maureen Cavanaugh-Howard. Mo,” she clarified. “My grandfather dated your grandmother.”
“Oh, of course. You’re Aiden’s sister.”
The bell on the door tinkled again and we both turned. Speaking of Aiden, that brunette who liked to touch his arm walked in.
“Hi, Nancy. How are you today?” Maureen gestured toward me. “Do you remember Katie Gallagher? She spent summers here growing up. She was the one who tossed out condoms at the Fourth of July parade all those years ago.”
Shaking my head, I remembered. I’d been fifteen, and the local paper had just published an article on the rise of STDs, especially among teens. I was fulfilling my civic duty.
“Gran had never been so angry with me.” I smiled, recalling her thirty-minute lecture on my inappropriate behavior. That poor woman did her best to keep me in line.
“Is that why you stopped visiting?” Mo asked.
“No, my dad died two months later.” And my wild streak died with him. An era of fear and uncertainty took over.
Mo took my hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” She turned to that Nancy woman. “Did you two know each other?”
I stared blankly at her. “I don’t?—”
“Sure. We know each other. Your friend Daisy’s little sister was my best friend. We hung out at the lake with you sometimes.”
“Oh, of course, yes. It’s good to see you.” I think she could tell I was lying. Her expression turned flinty.
“Maureen, I’m here to look for a gift for my mother. I’m just going to browse around.” She gave me a brittle smile before wandering to the back of the store.
Maureen, like her brother, was gorgeous.
I shook my head. “What is it with you Cavanaughs? I just about fell off my chair when I realized that skinny, knobbly-kneed Aiden had turned into tall, dark, and angry. And you, just beautiful.” I rolled my eyes.
“I remember you used to move so fast, it was hard for my eyes to keep up, running, swimming, diving, arm wrestling.” I shook my head, marveling again at the woman.
She laughed, a joyous, inclusive laugh that said all was right in the world. “I forgot about that. I kicked everyone’s butt arm wrestling. I may have been skinny, but I was strong.” She brought up her arm and flexed.
“Do all Cavanaughs grow into stunners? Because I’ve got to tell you, speaking as a mere mortal, it’s starting to piss me off.”
She laughed again. “Aww, you’ve made my day.
I was feeling a little crabby and out of sorts today, and now I don’t feel anything but tickled.
” She looked over my clothes, not judging, just assessing.
“So, are you shopping today or getting the lay of the land? Pops told us you were back, so I hoped I’d see you soon. ”
“Are your parents still living in Bar Harbor?” Mr. Cavanaugh hadn’t mentioned his son and daughter-in-law.
Mo pushed her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “No. By us, I meant my husband, Gary, and our son, Patrick. Wait...” She pulled a phone out of the pocket of her tweed slacks. “Here he is. That’s my little Paddy.” She turned the phone around to me.
I reached for the cell, my insides twisting.
“Oh, Mo, he’s so beautiful. He looks just like you.
” My finger traced his chubby cheek and dark, wavy hair.
“He has your eyes.” I looked up to return the phone.
“Congratulations.” My longing must have been obvious because she gave me a surreptitious squeeze on my arm before pocketing the device.
She walked farther into the shop, drawing me with her. “My parents, however, have said a fond farewell to frozen winters. My older brother Caleb—do you remember him?”
I nodded.
“He and his family live in San Diego. Mom and Dad have a little bungalow near them. Usually they don’t go until November, but Mom’s arthritis was really bothering her, so they went early.
They tried to stay all winter last year, after Alice—” She cut herself off, flicking her hand as though that was enough of that topic.
“They wanted to be here for Aiden, but Mom was in pain, so he sent them west.”
Mo walked to a nearby display table. “This would be gorgeous on you.” She held up a thick, intricately woven turtleneck sweater in emerald green.
“Not many can wear green without looking sallow. On you, it would be stunning. Come on; you’ll try it on.
” She gathered items for me as we made our way to the fitting rooms. “You’ve been living in California, right? ”
I nodded, looking everywhere at once. “Yes, but I can’t affor—” I gestured toward the front of the store. “It was just the dress. I’m not actually shopping for anything,” I ended lamely. “But if you’re hiring, I could really use a job.”
She dropped the clothes she was carrying onto the counter and strode to the back of the store, waving me to keep up.
“I’m not hiring, unfortunately. The Harbor does all its business in the spring and summer.
Fall and winter, it’s just the year-round residents.
We can easily maintain our shops on our own.
I wish I could offer you a cocktail instead of cold-weather clothes on sale. ”
“Clothing stores should totally have liquor licenses,” I said, following in her wake.
“Preaching to the choir, sister.” She looked at my thin wool trousers and sweater set. “Maine winters are frigid. Do you have a good warm coat?”
I shook my head. “Just this,” I said, indicating the unzipped jacket I was wearing. “It’s one of Gran’s old parkas.”
Mo smiled. “I’m thinking you’re going to want to update that look.” She led me to the back, to the outerwear racks. She pulled a long black suede coat with lamb’s wool lining off the hanger and held it up to me. “This is very warm and would look incredible on you. Very dramatic.”
I ran my fingers up and down the soft suede.
Justin’s voice tried to impinge, telling me black was too much for me, but I mentally shut him down and grabbed the coat from Mo.
I slid into it and felt the warmth down to my toes.
Mo shuffled me to the mirror and stepped back.
It looked wonderful, my hair standing out like a flame against the night sky.
There was no hiding, no blending in with a coat like this. I felt uncomfortably visible.
Feeling the price tag dangling over my hand, I lifted it up to read—$975. I sucked in a breath and held the tag out to Mo. “It’s gorgeous, but I can’t afford a coat like this.”
She glanced down at the tag. “No, that’s not the price. Here.” She pulled the coat off me. She turned it over to show me a large tear at the bottom. It had been repaired but was still noticeable.
“I sold it to a tourist last year. She brought it back that same day, wanting a refund. When I told her I couldn’t refund a coat she’d ripped, she threw a hissy fit and stormed out.
I held the coat behind the counter for months, assuming she’d come to her senses and want it back.
” She rolled her eyes. “I waited one whole year and then got the repair done. It’s too small for me but would be perfect for you.
I’ll just charge you the price of the repair, okay? Forty-five dollars.”
I heard a gasp and turned to find that Nancy woman watching us avidly.
“I know. Right? Unfortunately, we’re both too tall for this coat, but Katie is tiny enough to make it work.” She turned back to me. “What do you say? It’s a sign. I just put it on the rack yesterday. It was meant for you.”
“I say I’d be crazy not to buy it.”
Nancy mumbled something, but I ignored it.
“Actually, I just got a job at a food truck. I need a super warm hoodie or something, too. Something I can throw in the wash every day. Anything like that? Preferably with a huge tear?”
Mo laughed, walking us back to the counter to drop off the coat. “Are you working for Chuck?”
I shrugged. “No idea. He didn’t tell me his name. He threw me a key, told me to start at nine tomorrow, and drove off. I can cook, but I’ve never tried to do it in a truck before.”
She straightened a sweater on a display. “Chuck’s a good guy, but he has some problems?—”
“He’s a drunk,” Nancy interrupted.
Mo turned her back to Nancy, talking just to me. “Yes, that’s one of them. He’s not a bad guy, though.”
“Honestly! Do you know what he said to me at the Reef last Saturday night?” Nancy stepped forward, shoehorning into the conversation.
Imperceptibly, Mo’s eyes rolled. She turned to Nancy, saying, “I’m sure it was awful. He can be quite belligerent when he’s had too much.” She turned back to me. “But I’ve known Chuck all my life. He’s just a little rough around the edges. And he and his wife are having some problems.”
“Rough?” Nancy scoffed.
Mo walked away, ducking down into the recesses of the store.
“I know every piece I have in here, Katie. There’s a forest green hoodie down here somewhere.
It’s a large, as I recall, but it’s cotton blended with one of those warm fibers they use in subzero sleeping bags.
.. Here it is! It’s a one of a kind, from two years ago, so it got shoved to the back. ”
She stood, holding it up for me. “Hmm, a little big, but it’ll keep you warm.”
I dodged racks, making my way to her. It was crumpled, even hanging up by its shoulders, but the color was beautiful. “Are you sure that’s only a large? It looks really big.”
Mo checked the collar and smiled. “That’s because it’s a men’s extra large.
” She looked at the price tag and then up at Nancy, who was following us back.
Mo whispered, “It’s been back here for two years.
Seventy-five percent off puts it at around thirty dollars.
” She grimaced. “I know you didn’t want to buy anything today, but that truck is freezing.
Aiden worked in it in high school. Oh!” She looked around and grabbed a pair of thermal fingerless gloves.
“Trust me. You’ll need these, too. They’re thin, so they’ll fit under those clear plastic food service gloves. ”
Mentally, I did the math. I’d be lucky to get out of here for less than a hundred dollars. I needed the warm clothes, and she was giving me a huge deal. I nodded. “Thank you. I’ll take all three.”
I followed her back to the cash register. “If I made a Belgian waffle pocket, stuffed with eggs, sausage, and cheese, would you buy that for breakfast?”
Mo looked at me strangely. “Interesting topic change.”
Blood rushed to my cheeks again. “Sorry. I was just thinking about breakfast foods I could sell out of the truck.” I glanced around, checking for Nancy’s whereabouts.
I lowered my voice. “Chuck said if I could find something people wanted to eat for breakfast and I sold enough to cover the expenses, I could get more hours.”
“Sounds delicious, but if I ate that every day, I’d need a whole new wardrobe.” She rang up the coat, hoodie, and gloves. She grimaced. “That’ll be $92.65.”
I waved away her concern. “You found amazing deals for me. I can’t thank you enough.” Opening my wallet, I pulled out one of the crisp hundred-dollar bills I’d just received from the bank.
“You’re going to do just great here, Katie. I can feel it.”
I thought of my empty refrigerator and the animals living in my house. “I hope so.”