Page 6 of Bride in Blue
“Yes. From Manchester. Came over here about 30 years ago with my Edward. God Bless him, he is gone now.” She touched the delicate fabric around her face.
He pulled the door behind him, checking it three times to make sure it was secure before stepping back into the road.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Max shifted the jug to his other hand and dug through his pocket. He pulled out his watch once more and glanced at the time. He needed to open the store within five minutes.Where did the time go?“I really must be going.”
“Sixty-five,” the woman called behind him.
“Excuse me?” Max stopped and looked at her.
“I’m Sixty-five. Nowhere near eighty.”
“How…?” Max started. He was sure he didn’t speak his thoughts out loud.
“You didn’t,” she replied to his unspoken question. “But I know you were thinking it, Maximillian Blue.”
Max nearly dropped his jug, but she was there in an instant to make sure he held onto it, wrapping her hands around his hand and arm. Her bony fingers were small, but they held onto him with a powerful grip.
“I don’t think I’ve met you before.”
“No, you haven’t.” she grinned again. Pale gums peering from behind her furrowed lips. “How about we have a nice cup of tea and a chat, Maximillian?”
Max felt himself nodding, and the woman held onto his arm until they reached the haberdashery.
“Oh, this is wonderful,” she said, peering in the window. A dark wool suit was on display. “I am so happy to see frocks haven’t gone out of style.” She turned to Max. “Did you know that dark jackets and lighter pants are what most men in New York are wearing now?”
Max looked at her. Was this elderly woman giving him fashion advice? He certainly wasn’t going to take fashion advice from someone that was wearing a 30-year-old mourning gown. “I thought you were British.”
The woman laughed. “I lived in New York once. The same as you, Maximillian. Same as many others.” Max was about to ask how she knew his name and that he had lived in New York, but she quickly said, “Let’s go inside, Maximillian.”
Max looked at the street. People were walking back and forth as the businesses were starting to open for the day. It didn’t appear that anyone noticed them together. Why he was so concerned, he didn’t know. He tried very hard to keep appearances up, but sometimes things… he just stood out.
He pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into the door lock. He turned it once, twice, unlocking and locking it three times before letting the key stay in the unlocked position. He took a deep breath and allowed the door to swing open.
He stepped aside to let his companion enter first. She walked into the middle of the store and clapped her hands once. “It is just lovely,” she said. “It will certainly do.”
“Do for what?” Max asked, placing his bag and jug of tea on a table in the corner of the store.
The woman appeared to ignore him as she moved from display to display fingering the material from each suit as she inspected it. “Oh,” she cooed, stopping in front of a wooden display .
She actually cooed,Max thought.
“You have notions. Not many haberdasheries over here have notions. That is something you would only see in a British store.”
“It came that way. I purchased the store two years ago.”
“Yes, yes,” she said, opening drawers and looking inside. She took a few buttons out of one of the drawers and placed them on top of the cabinet, before walking away to another display.
Max rushed over and collected the buttons, placing them back in the drawer. He followed her to where she was fingering a display of cravats that had just arrived the previous day.
“Please don’t touch those,” he said, pushing the display further back on the table.
“Maximillian, Maximillian.” She patted his cheek. Her fingers felt cold. “Let’s have tea, shall we?”
Max touched his cheeks. His grandmother used to do that. He felt his throat thickening. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t thought about his grandmother in years.
The woman sat at the table and pulled the box of pastries towards her. “I do love a good jelly cake. I wonder what type of jelly Maybelle puts in her pastries?” Max watched as she proceeded to unwrap the string holding the box together. She stopped and looked at him. “Aren’t you going to get cups and plates? A serviette would be lovely if you have one.”
Max couldn’t respond. He felt himself giving a nod and walked to the small cupboard where he kept his incidentals. He placed two cups and saucers on the table and offered the woman his handkerchief as he didn’t have any napkins available.
