couldn’t have been vicious or cruel, she isn’t that kind of a girl.”
“You know her?”
“I only met her once, briefly; but she’s nice. You’ll like her.”
The proprietress was nowhere in sight when we entered the shop, which seemed dim and shadowy after the street. It was crowded with objects, just as an antique shop ought to be, but as I glanced at the assortment on the front counter I saw that there was an underlying organization behind the apparent clutter. Sue must be competent, whatever her other virtues might be.
The tinkle of the bell over the door produced no result, so Mary called out. After a moment there was an answer from the back of the shop—a call so muffled that it sounded as if it came from a deep cave. This was followed by a scuffling sound, and then a bright golden head popped up above a counter.
People talk about red-gold hair, but you don’t see that shade often, especially on an adult. It happens to be the exact shade I’ve always wanted to have. I tried on a wig of that color once; it looked so awful on me that I didn’t buy it. But I gaped in jealous admiration at the girl who came by it legitimately.
She wasn’t really pretty. Her mouth was too big and she had a copious supply of freckles. But no one would have known she wasn’t pretty. A woman would respond to the broad electric grin and the lively friendliness in her face. A man wouldn’t notice her face at all. She had a gorgeous figure. I don’t think she tried to show it off, but the tight, old pants and the man’s shirt looked sexier on her than a pair of skintight slacks would look on most women.
She wiped her hand on the seat of her jeans before she offered it to us, and waved away Mary’s attempt at introductions.
“Sure I remember you—you don’t mind if I call you Mary, do you? I’ve known Ran too long to beformal with his wife. And this has to be your sister. That’s the curse of a small town, girls, everybody knows every blasted move you make. Your name is Jo, you’re from San Francisco, and you’re an artist.”
“Not exactly an—”
“I should have come up to visit you but I haven’t had time. Trying to get the place ready for the summer trade. It was nice of you to come and see me. You’ll have some coffee, won’t you? No, it’s no trouble, I always keep a pot on the burner.” She winked at me. “It’s good for business. Relaxes the customers and makes ’em feel as if they ought to buy something.”
“That’s a good—”
“They do it in Near Eastern bazaars all the time. I read about it in a book.” She led the way to the back of the shop, still talking. “Paper cups, but that’s just part of the informal charm. Sit down, won’t you? Wait a sec, I’ll clear off a couple of chairs.”
I caught Mary’s eye and glanced hastily away before I started laughing. I knew we were both thinking the same thing. I couldn’t visualize Will married to this cheerful chatterbox, he would never have been able to get a word in edgewise. But after seeing Sue I could believe that a man might carry a torch for a good long time.
We took the chairs she pulled up and she sat on a packing case, with her legs swinging.
“Listen, I really am glad you came by. I want to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?” Mary asked.
“Maybe I ought to talk to Ran. But to tell you the honest-to-God truth, I’m a little bit embarrassed about it.”
Again Mary and I exchanged glances. Sue caught the look and flushed.
“Oh, my gosh, I’m making it sound like some big important thing. Don’t worry, it isn’t anything like…well, like what you might be thinking. The truth is, I’ve got some things he might like to have back. You know that in the last few years the old ladies—his aunts—weren’t too well off?”
“I didn’t know that,” Mary said, looking concerned. “And I’m sure Ran didn’t either. He wouldn’t—”
“Oh, listen, honey, I know Ran, you don’t have to tell me
“You know her?”
“I only met her once, briefly; but she’s nice. You’ll like her.”
The proprietress was nowhere in sight when we entered the shop, which seemed dim and shadowy after the street. It was crowded with objects, just as an antique shop ought to be, but as I glanced at the assortment on the front counter I saw that there was an underlying organization behind the apparent clutter. Sue must be competent, whatever her other virtues might be.
The tinkle of the bell over the door produced no result, so Mary called out. After a moment there was an answer from the back of the shop—a call so muffled that it sounded as if it came from a deep cave. This was followed by a scuffling sound, and then a bright golden head popped up above a counter.
People talk about red-gold hair, but you don’t see that shade often, especially on an adult. It happens to be the exact shade I’ve always wanted to have. I tried on a wig of that color once; it looked so awful on me that I didn’t buy it. But I gaped in jealous admiration at the girl who came by it legitimately.
She wasn’t really pretty. Her mouth was too big and she had a copious supply of freckles. But no one would have known she wasn’t pretty. A woman would respond to the broad electric grin and the lively friendliness in her face. A man wouldn’t notice her face at all. She had a gorgeous figure. I don’t think she tried to show it off, but the tight, old pants and the man’s shirt looked sexier on her than a pair of skintight slacks would look on most women.
She wiped her hand on the seat of her jeans before she offered it to us, and waved away Mary’s attempt at introductions.
“Sure I remember you—you don’t mind if I call you Mary, do you? I’ve known Ran too long to beformal with his wife. And this has to be your sister. That’s the curse of a small town, girls, everybody knows every blasted move you make. Your name is Jo, you’re from San Francisco, and you’re an artist.”
“Not exactly an—”
“I should have come up to visit you but I haven’t had time. Trying to get the place ready for the summer trade. It was nice of you to come and see me. You’ll have some coffee, won’t you? No, it’s no trouble, I always keep a pot on the burner.” She winked at me. “It’s good for business. Relaxes the customers and makes ’em feel as if they ought to buy something.”
“That’s a good—”
“They do it in Near Eastern bazaars all the time. I read about it in a book.” She led the way to the back of the shop, still talking. “Paper cups, but that’s just part of the informal charm. Sit down, won’t you? Wait a sec, I’ll clear off a couple of chairs.”
I caught Mary’s eye and glanced hastily away before I started laughing. I knew we were both thinking the same thing. I couldn’t visualize Will married to this cheerful chatterbox, he would never have been able to get a word in edgewise. But after seeing Sue I could believe that a man might carry a torch for a good long time.
We took the chairs she pulled up and she sat on a packing case, with her legs swinging.
“Listen, I really am glad you came by. I want to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?” Mary asked.
“Maybe I ought to talk to Ran. But to tell you the honest-to-God truth, I’m a little bit embarrassed about it.”
Again Mary and I exchanged glances. Sue caught the look and flushed.
“Oh, my gosh, I’m making it sound like some big important thing. Don’t worry, it isn’t anything like…well, like what you might be thinking. The truth is, I’ve got some things he might like to have back. You know that in the last few years the old ladies—his aunts—weren’t too well off?”
“I didn’t know that,” Mary said, looking concerned. “And I’m sure Ran didn’t either. He wouldn’t—”
“Oh, listen, honey, I know Ran, you don’t have to tell me
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