didn’t want anything to do with them until my hair had reached ponytail length.
I couldn’t make my hair grow any faster, even if I wanted to, but I could put a little more vitality into my clothing choices. That’s why I purchased a flattering wrap dress in sapphire blue. I wouldn’t normally wear such a tight-fitting outfit, but the girl who sold it to me said I had a fantastic figure. She also swore to me that she didn’t work on commission.
I paired the sleek dress with cable-knit tights and lace-up boots with a modest heel. My outfit seemed like the perfect compromise between comfort and style, and over top of everything, I wore a new wool jacket the same length as the dress.
I couldn’t take much credit for my put-together look, since I didn’t put it together so much as I walked into the shop and said I’d take everything on the mannequin in the window.
That evening, the Fox and Hound pub was about half full, and my entrance did not go unnoticed. So many heads turned to check out the girl in the wool coat and sapphire blue dress, you’d think my outfit was made of feathers and live squirrels.
I self-consciously wove my way around the tables, scanning for Jessica’s bright red hair and equally cheerful face. Eyes were on me the whole time, and people didn’t even have the courtesy to look away when I made eye contact. A few even waved at me.
After the third person nodded my way, I realized they didn’t think my new coat was made of live squirrels. They were just being friendly. Some other people came in through the pub’s front door, stamping snow off their boots, and they got the same treatment of raised faces and nods of recognition.
People being interested in each other’s comings and goings was just another aspect of small town life I would need to get used to.
I spotted Jessica’s red head near one of the pub’s three cozy fireplaces and went to join her.
“Small town life is so different,” I said as I took my seat. “In the city, nobody looks up when you walk into a place. If they do look, it means you’ve made a bad outfit choice and you’re tarted up like a hooker.”
Jessica grinned at me over her drink, which was amber hued and served in a glass mug, with a cinnamon stick at a jaunty angle.
“I’d love to see you, Stormy Day, tarted up like a hooker,” she said. “This blue dress is pretty nice, though. And the tights, the shoes, plus the necklace and matching bracelet. Tell me, did you go to Blue Enchantment and buy everything off the window mannequin?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only because I’ve been dreaming about doing the same thing. But on my salary at the sandwich shop, I have to hope the good stuff is still around for the seasonal clearance sale.”
I tried not to wince visibly as I quickly turned to look at the glowing logs in the fireplace. I remembered why Jessica and I lost touch. She’d started talking about money every time I saw her—mostly about how she didn’t have any money and I did.
I couldn’t solve our wage disparity, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her it made me uncomfortable. If she’d needed a loan, I would have given it to her, but Jessica refused to go into any sort of debt.
Over the last few years, we were only seeing each other a few times a year—just enough time to catch up on love lives and gossip, but not enough time to get into casual griping about bills and whatnot.
She didn’t gripe, exactly. She probably only talked about money the way everyone does, but I had so much of it for a few years that I’d become self conscious. Other people didn’t see the long hours I put into work, or the sacrifices I made. I missed our ten-year high school reunion because I was in Hong Kong having the most miserable, lonely month of my life.
The trip to Hong Kong had been five years ago, and while I couldn’t remember if that particular deal had gone through or not, I could remember how sad I’d felt in my hotel room, looking
I couldn’t make my hair grow any faster, even if I wanted to, but I could put a little more vitality into my clothing choices. That’s why I purchased a flattering wrap dress in sapphire blue. I wouldn’t normally wear such a tight-fitting outfit, but the girl who sold it to me said I had a fantastic figure. She also swore to me that she didn’t work on commission.
I paired the sleek dress with cable-knit tights and lace-up boots with a modest heel. My outfit seemed like the perfect compromise between comfort and style, and over top of everything, I wore a new wool jacket the same length as the dress.
I couldn’t take much credit for my put-together look, since I didn’t put it together so much as I walked into the shop and said I’d take everything on the mannequin in the window.
That evening, the Fox and Hound pub was about half full, and my entrance did not go unnoticed. So many heads turned to check out the girl in the wool coat and sapphire blue dress, you’d think my outfit was made of feathers and live squirrels.
I self-consciously wove my way around the tables, scanning for Jessica’s bright red hair and equally cheerful face. Eyes were on me the whole time, and people didn’t even have the courtesy to look away when I made eye contact. A few even waved at me.
After the third person nodded my way, I realized they didn’t think my new coat was made of live squirrels. They were just being friendly. Some other people came in through the pub’s front door, stamping snow off their boots, and they got the same treatment of raised faces and nods of recognition.
People being interested in each other’s comings and goings was just another aspect of small town life I would need to get used to.
I spotted Jessica’s red head near one of the pub’s three cozy fireplaces and went to join her.
“Small town life is so different,” I said as I took my seat. “In the city, nobody looks up when you walk into a place. If they do look, it means you’ve made a bad outfit choice and you’re tarted up like a hooker.”
Jessica grinned at me over her drink, which was amber hued and served in a glass mug, with a cinnamon stick at a jaunty angle.
“I’d love to see you, Stormy Day, tarted up like a hooker,” she said. “This blue dress is pretty nice, though. And the tights, the shoes, plus the necklace and matching bracelet. Tell me, did you go to Blue Enchantment and buy everything off the window mannequin?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only because I’ve been dreaming about doing the same thing. But on my salary at the sandwich shop, I have to hope the good stuff is still around for the seasonal clearance sale.”
I tried not to wince visibly as I quickly turned to look at the glowing logs in the fireplace. I remembered why Jessica and I lost touch. She’d started talking about money every time I saw her—mostly about how she didn’t have any money and I did.
I couldn’t solve our wage disparity, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her it made me uncomfortable. If she’d needed a loan, I would have given it to her, but Jessica refused to go into any sort of debt.
Over the last few years, we were only seeing each other a few times a year—just enough time to catch up on love lives and gossip, but not enough time to get into casual griping about bills and whatnot.
She didn’t gripe, exactly. She probably only talked about money the way everyone does, but I had so much of it for a few years that I’d become self conscious. Other people didn’t see the long hours I put into work, or the sacrifices I made. I missed our ten-year high school reunion because I was in Hong Kong having the most miserable, lonely month of my life.
The trip to Hong Kong had been five years ago, and while I couldn’t remember if that particular deal had gone through or not, I could remember how sad I’d felt in my hotel room, looking
Similar Books
