Page 26 of Under the Mistletoe
And I realize that’s the point of it all. Jessica is real. Everything else I’ve experienced in life has been curated. Like an art exhibition or a magazine shoot. The details of my life, where I went to school, who I befriended, working in the business, living a lonely solitary life, my parents built me up to be the man they wanted, to be the man who took on the business, and I just went with it. It was my sole focus. But now Jessica has come along and made me think what life would be like if I just stepped out of the lines a little.
I just don’t know if this is the beginning of something real, or the end of everything I’ve ever known.
12
Jessica
We walk into Thrift on Third and the musty smell makes me feel at home.
“So where did you get your new scarf from?” Shelley stares at me. The heat in my cheeks grows.
“Ahhh, is it okay if I don’t tell you right now?” I wince, hoping she lets me off the hook.
“Oh my God, are you seeing someone?” She stalls, looking at me with wide eyes full of curiosity.
“Um… no, but it is a gift,” I clarify, not wanting to get into it now. Especially when I don’t really know what's happening myself.
“Fine, but I’m not forgetting it. I want details.”
“I promise, you’ll be the first to know.” I’m thankful that she drops it. For now. Although she eyes the fabric with a keen sense of knowing.
“I can’t believe you still come here.” Shelley rolls her eyes, her own fashion sense a little more high-end.
“You know I love Mabel. She never steers me wrong.”
“Oh, Jay Jay, you’re here. I have just the thing for you…” Mabel gushes immediately upon seeing me. She looks amazing today, her gray hair set, her blue eyeshadow on, and her lips bright pink. Not many people can pull off that look, yet Mabel does.
“See, told you,” I whisper to Shelley, who decides to go off through the store and look at the racks.
“How is it that you’ve always got just the thing?” I tell her, laughing as she pulls me in for a warm hug, one which I return happily. Her signature scent of jasmine and sandalwood encases me.
“You’re the perfect size. You know, when I worked in the Parisian ateliers in the 1950s, the models weren’t coat hangers, they were women. Real women.” She pulls back and looks at me adoringly.
“I didn’t know you worked in Paris.” It all sounds very glamorous to me.
“Back then, we dressed for elegance. Fashion should never be about vanishing into a size zero. It should be about presence, and you, my dear, have presence.”
“Well, I’m no size zero, that’s for sure.” I chuckle as she scurries out the back. This shop has been here for years. I can’t remember when I first met Mabel, but I come in almost every week just to say hello, and I always leave with a bag full of clothes. “You need to stop spoiling me,” I yell out to her as I pick up a vintage vase, liking the design.
“I knew it would look good on you the minute it came in.” She walks out and hands over what looks to be a black silk faille set. “Besides… I won’t be here for much longer.” Her smile slips.
“What do you mean? Are you leaving?”
“Well, I’ve loved it here, but business is just not the same. People aren’t really coming in like they used to. Stock isn’t selling… so I might need to close.”
My heart breaks. “No! There has to be something we can do. What about online sales?”
“Ohhhh, Jay Jay, you know I don't even have a website. And I’m too old to be trying to figure out how to do all that digital stuff you kids do.” She pushes me toward the changing rooms like she didn’t just drop a bomb on me.
“But what…” I start, my mind racing on how to help her.
“No. You come in here to enjoy and visit. Not to talk about business.” She hushes me and gives me a look that ensures I don’t dare raise the issue again.
With a relenting sigh, I look at the silky dress and feel it in my hands. “This is gorgeous…”
“Try it on. I want to see it on you. Especially with that amazing scarf. Where did you get it?” Mabel’s hand runs down the lapel of the scarf.
“Soft, isn’t it? It was a gift.”
