Page 71 of The Shop on Royal Street
“Gee, thanks.” I looked at myself in the mirror, wondering if my family would even recognize me. I felt as if I were wearing the disguise of a normal person, of a woman who didn’t have issues or a past she was ashamed of. Just a regular girl dressed up and wearing makeup and going on a date with a boy.
She dabbed powder on my nose and straightened my strand of pearls around my neck. “I think you’re just about ready.”
I glanced at the Cowardly Lion clock and jumped out of my seat. “He’ll be here any minute. I’ll go wait for him outside.”
Moving fast enough that I could later swear in a court of law that I saw only a streak of red hair, Jolene plastered herself in front of the door, her eyes widened in horror. “You will do no such thing. When he rings the doorbell I’ll let him in, but even if you’re all ready you just sit right here for ten minutes. He’s Southern. He expects you to be late. And believe me, you are worth the wait.”
She reached over to adjust the scoop neckline of the spaghetti-strap cocktail dress in the same blue shade as my eyes. The silk skimmed my curves instead of clinging to them, and the neckline was relatively modest, but the push-up bra Jolene had insisted I wear made it more eye-catching than I was used to.
I instinctively reached up to readjust it, but she grabbed my arm. “Stop messing with the dress, because I’m not going to be there to reach across the table and fix it for you.”
“I’m not...” The doorbell rang and we both froze. I tried to reach for the doorknob, but she blocked me.
Grabbing hold of my hand so I wouldn’t bolt, she pulled me towardthe dressing table and grabbed a tall can of hair spray. “Close your eyes and don’t breathe for thirty seconds, all right? This is your only weapon against humidity and I swear by it. I teased your roots enough to make them cry, and this will keep your hair from looking flat as a flounder.”
“I don’t—” I had to close my mouth as she began spraying.
When she was done, she pushed me toward her closet. “Go look on that top shelf and find a nice scarf to drape over your shoulders. I’m letting you pick because I have to believe you’re not color-blind and can find something that matches. If not, remember that white goes with everything.”
She gave me a shove before sprinting back to the door. “Donotleave this room until I come get you, you hear?”
I would have rolled my eyes, but she had already darted out the door, closing it behind her. After emerging from the closet with a pale blue fringed wrap, I heard Michael’s voice in the apartment. I moved toward the bedroom door but stopped. It wasn’t that I was afraid of Jolene. I just wasn’t ready for her to punish me by withholding baked goods. Or my morning coffee.
After I waited for what seemed an eternity, Jolene slipped back into the room, closing the door quickly behind her as if I were a wayward puppy trying to escape. She handed me a slim evening bag that she’d already stuffed with the essentials—lipstick and powder, my house key, and two breath mints—and said, “Just remember two things: With great cleavage comes great responsibility; and don’t order anything green, leafy, or that will get stuck between your teeth.”
She started to open the door but hesitated. “Actually, there’s one more thing. Try to forget about Beau tonight. Maybe this is what’s meant to be.”
Before I could ask her if she would feel better if she wrote it all down for me, she’d shoved me out into the hallway. I stumbled into the living room, where Michael stood with his back to us, studying a watercolor of my house in Charleston, which had been painted by my friend Alston as a going-away gift. Michael wore a dark jacket and dresspants, and when he turned, I saw that the color of his tie matched my dress.
He smiled in that devastating way he had, which made me wonder if he knew it and used it on purpose. “You look gorgeous, Nola.”
“Thank you. Although I have to admit that I had nothing to do with any of this—” I choked on the last word as Jolene poked me in the back with her finger.
“That’s a beautiful house,” he said, indicating the painting on the wall. “Is that your family home?”
“It is,” I said with a surge of pride. “It’s really the reason I became interested in historic preservation.”
“I bet. Is it haunted?”
I gave a little laugh to show that I didn’t take his question seriously. “Why? Do you believe in ghosts?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen one. But I do know that I’m afraid of them.”
Jolene put her arm around me. “You’re lucky you asked her out on a rare free night on her full calendar,” Jolene said. “Mardi and I are looking forward to a quiet night of getting to know each other.”
She stooped to pat the little dog, who’d followed us out of the bedroom. Michael crouched down, showing the dog the palm of his hand as he was taught to do when meeting an unfamiliar canine. Instead of approaching him to give a sniff, Mardi lifted his upper lip and snarled. Granted, the impression of a shaved ball of fluff trying to show aggression wasn’t as intimidating as Mardi would have liked to think, but Michael stood quickly, pulling his hand back from biting distance.
“I’ve never had that happen before,” he said. “Dogs usually love me. But I’m sure he’ll get used to me.”
“I doubt it,” I said.
Michael looked at me with a confused expression.
“I mean, Mardi’s not my dog. We just found him and we’re trying now to locate his owner, so he won’t be here long enough to get used to anybody.”
“Right. Makes sense.” Michael glanced toward the terrace roomwith the stacked hatboxes. Seeing his gaze, Jolene hurried over and closed the door, even though it was a French door consisting mostly of glass. “Don’t look in there—it’s a mess. We just emptied out a closet at Nola’s new house and we’re storing most of it in there until we have the chance to go through it all and decide what we want to do with it.”
“It’s not a lot, though, considering,” Michael said. “When my uncle was trying to buy it, Mimi Ryan said it was full of junk and wasn’t ready to sell yet. Although we learned from word of mouth that she was trying to sell it off list. It had only made it onto the MLS right before you snapped it up, before we even had a chance.”
