Page 21 of Ghostly
Gabriel stocked up on groceries and picked up a vibrant orange kitchen utensil which, judging by the packaging, could be used to slice things in five different ways and, judging by the price, should break about five minutes into use. Then he’d only need to fix it. Busy thinking about what else he could do regarding thewarm upcondition, he waited for the cashier to process his order and automatically handed her his credit card.
“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t take credit cards.”
“What?” Only now he took a better look at her. Around fifty, maybe, with a perm—oh no. No.
“But the lady before me paid with a credit card.” He had to be paranoid. No way all the perm ladies in this town had it in for him.
“The machine just broke.” She shrugged, not even trying to sound convincing.
“Is there an ATM nearby?”
“Not near, no.”
And if there was, she probably wasn’t telling him. Gabriel cursed under his breath and checked his wallet. Barely any cash—who paid with cash nowadays, anyway? Stupid backwater stores—
“You’ll have to move, sir. You’re holding up the line,” the cashier said.
“There’s no one behind me,” Gabriel pointed out in a flat voice. “Ma’am, do you have a problem? Because you’re offering a product, and as a client desiring the product and having the means to purchase it, I have the right—”
“Why are you talking like this?”
“I need my peeler.” Gabriel shoved the box with the peeler and the credit card toward the cashier.
“And I can’t accept your payment!” She shoved it back.
“Oh, my god,” a male voice cut in. “Is that a Dries van Noten?”
Gabriel looked down at his gold-embroidered leather jacket, and up to the start of the aisle, where a young man in a fashionable purple jacket and tight teal pants stood. “Uh, yes?”
“You must be new to town. Hi, I’m Jason.” The man extended his hand and gave Gabriel a wide, perfectly non-fake smile. He turned to the cashier. “Dina, why are you giving this man a hard time?”
“I’m not. I simply told him we only accept cash.”
“Really.” Jason narrowed his eyes, but his expression cleared as he looked back at Gabriel. “How much do you need? Don’t worry, you can pay me back, there’s an ATM around the corner.”
“Is there, now?” Gabriel gave the cashier a pointed look. “Well, then I can—”
“No, no, please.” Jason held him up by the sleeve. “We shouldn’t let the other customers wait, should we? There.” He plopped down some bills. “This should cover mine and Mr…?”
“Van—uh, Buren.”
Dina raised an eyebrow. “Your name is van Buren?”
“Only Buren.” Gabriel tried to return the same annoying smile all these perm women gave him.
“There we go.” Jason picked up the change and winked at Gabriel. “Oh, the Engelwood peeler. Love those. I can’t believe you’d deny the man his peeler.” He shook his head in disappointment, and he and Gabriel walked out, with Gabriel throwing one last, half-suspicious, half-victorious glance past his shoulder.
“Thank you,” he said once they were outside. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Maybe not, but whenever I see Dina or any of the Schuyler Sisters messing with someone, I feel like I need to defend the poor sop,” Jason said.
“The Schuyler Sisters?”
“What I call them. It’s either that or the Holy Perm Trio. Dina—you just had the pleasure of meeting her—then Marge, she works at the library, and Janice. She’s down at the bakery. They can be pretty nasty.”
“You don’t say.” Gabriel stared down the street. The librarian, the baker, and the cashier. And they all had a strange sort of dislike for him without even knowing him. “Do they not like strangers?”
“No, I don’t think that’s the problem. I’ve seen them being hospitable before. Too hospitable at times, if you ask me. They’re the type that turns up at your door with plates of cookies and casseroles as a welcome wagon. You should have trouble trying to get rid of them, not the other way around.”
