Page 33 of Welcome Home, Katie Gallagher
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.”
Chapter Thirteen
