She drifted over to the long, glass case stuffed with glassware and knickknacks. A pearlescent orange glass bowl caught her eye. “Carnival glass. And do you believe the price? That’s a steal.” Her grandmother collected carnival glass. That bowl would make a great birthday present for Nana.
“Maybe we should look at the coats,” Cecily suggested.
Oh, yeah. The coats.
They made their way to the men’s section, which was packed with everything from shirts to pants. Cecily gestured at one long rack. “There must be a mile of coats here.”
“More than that,” Stacy said. “But not many of them are army jackets.”
It took them less than ten minutes to ascertain that Dean’s jacket wasn’t there. Did you really think you’d find it right away? Stacy asked herself. That would’ve been too easy, and she suspected fate wasn’t going to be so kind to her.
Her cell phone rang. “Nothing in Ballard,” Charley reported.
Figured. “Nothing here, either,” Stacy said.
“We’re going to head farther north. Jen says there’s one in West Seattle you might want to try. She’s got the address in her phone.”
The address was conveyed, and Stacy and Cecily put it in Stacy’s GPS. After she’d purchased that carnival glass bowl.
They didn’t have any luck in West Seattle, either. And Jen’s sister, Toni, struck out in Bellevue and Kirkland. The search party finally met at a Starbucks in the University District. By that time Stacy had consoled herself with more purchases—two vintage Starbucks mugs, a Fitz and Floyd Christmas plate and a Victoria’s Secret bra, still new with the tags on and just her size. (Hey, if she didn’t come back with the jacket, this was something Dean would appreciate.)
“Who knew you could find so many great things in thrift stores?” she said.
Charley raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never shopped in a thrift store?”
“Never needed to. I always thought they were kind of grotty.”
“They are,” Cecily said, wrinkling her nose.
“But they’re the best place to shop when you’re a broke college student,” Charley pointed out. “My roommates and I furnished our whole apartment with stuff from thrift stores.”
“I can believe it,” Stacy said. “I had no idea what I was missing.” Missing. Oh, yeah, Dean’s jacket. She frowned and stared morosely into her coffee cup. “Where the heck is that jacket?”
“Someone might already have bought it,” Juliet said gently.
Good thing she’d gotten the Victoria’s Secret bra. She had an awful feeling she was going to need it.
“We still have a couple of stores left,” Jen told them. “Toni’s on her way to Bothell to look. And there’s the one on Capitol Hill.”
“Where’s that?” asked Stacy. The most she’d ever seen of Seattle was the downtown and the waterfront.
“It’s not far from here,” Jen replied.
“Then let’s go,” Stacy said. Maybe she’d suffered enough. Maybe this time she’d come up with that jacket.
The Capitol Hill Goodwill seemed to have a lot of young customers. “There’s a community college nearby,” Jen explained as they hurried over to the men’s clothes.
A couple of college-age boys stood pawing through the coats. Stacy gasped as one of them pulled out a light green-and-sand-colored camo army jacket. Could it be?
The kid tried it on. It was way too big for him. But it was just the right size for Dean.
She hurried toward them and as she got closer she was able to see the name stitched on the pocket. Thomas. “That’s it!” she cried.
The kid was still wearing the jacket. He was about her son’s age. Only her son was much nicer looking. This boy had brown hair gelled up into a point—not a good style for someone with a long face—and tattoo art climbing up his neck. He was too skinny and he wore ripped jeans and a T-shirt that had obviously seen better days. He’d probably purchased it here. Now he glanced up at her, surprised.
“That coat you’ve got, it’s my husband’s,” she told him. “We’ve been looking all over town for it.”
“I guess he didn’t want it,” said the kid. “Since it’s here.”
“It shouldn’t be. It was all a mistake,” Stacy explained. “Could I have it?” He didn’t appear to be in any rush to hand it over, so she smiled her lovable, mom-next-door smile and added, “Please?”
He made no move to hand it over.
“It’s too big for you, anyway.”
He frowned. “Not that big.”
Okay, that had been a tactical error. She tried to play on his sympathies. “My husband was really upset that I got rid of it.” Anyone with a heart, anyone who’d been raised properly, would give up a coat that didn’t fit him in the first place.
This particular anyone had been raised by wolves. He shrugged. “Not my problem.”
“It’s going to be your problem if you don’t give me that coat,” Stacy informed him, abandoning her mom-next-door smile.
“Hey, in case you didn’t notice, this is a store. People buy things here.”
“All right. I’ll buy it from you,” she said, opening her purse.
“Lady, I haven’t even paid for it yet.”
“So, I’ll pay you not to pay for it.” She got a ten-dollar bill from her wallet and held it out to him.
He eyed it, then he eyed her. Speculatively. “You really want this coat, huh?”
Well, duh. “I do.” She waggled the bill temptingly.
“If you’d pay ten for it, I bet you’d pay twenty,” said the scrawny little brat.
“Twenty?”
“Hey, I’ve gotta pay my tuition.”
“What are you majoring in, robbery?”
“Business.”
And he meant business. The kid still wasn’t taking off the jacket. “Oh, all right,” she said, and pulled out her last ten.
“Or thirty.” He slipped off the jacket and dangled it temptingly.
“That’s all I have,” she said through clenched teeth.
The others had reached her in time to hear this last interchange. “I think I’ve got ten,” Juliet said, catching on. She began to dig in her purse. “Yes!” she crowed, and produced another bill.
“Dude, don’t settle for thirty,” said the robber’s pal, the kind of clean-cut preppy kid you’d expect would offer to change your tire if you had a flat. Looks sure were deceiving.
“I’ve got five.” Jen drew a crumpled bill from her pocket.
The skinny little robber turned to Charley and asked with a leer, “And what have you got?”
With her long legs and shoulder-length chestnut hair, Charley had plenty. She wasn’t as beautiful as Cecily (who was?) but she had style and sex appeal. It probably made Mr. Business Major’s day when she sidled up close to him, looking like a hooker about to make a deal.
“I’ll tell you what I’ve got,” she said sweetly.
He and his friend exchanged grins, but his died the moment her hand shot out and pinched the back of his neck in what resembled a death grip.
“I’ve got a real short fuse on my temper.”
The kid squinted in pain. “Hey!” he protested, trying to squirm away.
His friend pointed a finger at Charley. “That’s assault.”
“And this is extortion. Take the thirty-five and give us the jacket or I’ll grab you someplace even more painful.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, his voice surl
y. He handed over the jacket, took the money and then, with a huff, stomped off, humiliated but thirty-five dollars richer.
The women high-fived one another and chortled.
“That was impressive,” Jen said to Charley.
She grinned wickedly as she gave Stacy her prize. “Who says chivalry is dead?”
“You guys, thank you so much,” Stacy said. “You saved my life.”
“Or at least your marriage,” Charley teased. She eyed the coat with a frown. “But I can see why you wanted to get rid of that thing. It’s ugly.”
“Not to Dean,” Stacy said. “I didn’t realize this had so much sentimental value. I sure learned my lesson. Never give away a man’s things without asking. And never underestimate what you can find in a thrift store,” she added with a smile.
“You know, I haven’t poked around one of these places in years.” Charley turned to Juliet and Jen. “You guys okay with hanging out for a few minutes before we head back?”
“I’ve got a babysitter. I’m in no hurry,” Juliet said.
“I don’t start work until next week,” Jen said. “I’ve got time.”
Next Charley turned to Stacy and Cecily. “You guys want to stay for a little longer?”
“I took a vacation day,” Cecily said. “I’m good.”
And now that the pressure was off, Stacy was ready to enjoy herself, too.
“Okay, I say we check this place out. Meet back here in the men’s section in twenty?”
Everyone agreed and they went off in various directions, Charley and Cecily to women’s clothes, Juliet toward baby things, Jen to housewares and Stacy to the collectibles.
By the end of the allotted time, everyone came back with something. Stacy had found more Fitz and Floyd, Juliet had scored with a bunch of baby clothes that were nearly new and Jen and Cecily both had coats.
But Charley had scored the biggest of all. “I now have my wedding dress,” she announced, holding up a creamy satin gown. It was deceptively simple in design and obviously expensive.
“That’s gorgeous,” Stacy said.
Charley smiled. “A designer wedding gown for fifty bucks.”
“But she looks like a million in it,” Cecily said.
“Who knew?” Stacy mused as they paid for their purchases—including the jacket (another twenty bucks, this time on an old credit card)—and left the store. One woman’s junk was another woman’s treasure. She’d been missing out all these years. When she got back to Icicle Falls, she had some treasure-hunting to do.
Chapter Twelve
Even the simplest treat is a feast when shared with someone.
—Muriel Sterling, author of Simplicity
“You found it,” Dean said when Stacy presented him with his jacket. “Thanks, babe.” Grinning, he put it on and did a Mr. Universe pose. “Still looks good, eh?”
“Still looks good,” she agreed.
“Thanks for getting it back,” he said, and kissed her.
“My pleasure.” No lie there. She’d had a great time shopping once she’d accomplished her mission.
Dean had coached basketball after school so she’d beaten him home. Barely. But since she had, she decided not to tell him she’d gone all the way to Seattle to recover his coat. He’d have been horrified to hear it had actually left town. He might also, in light of her recent house-cleansing, have joked about the purchases she’d brought back. There were so many things men didn’t understand.
He sure wouldn’t understand why she returned to the Kindness Cupboard the next day. Dean wouldn’t see this little thrift shop as unexplored territory, a potential gold mine of goodies. He’d simply see it as a place for her to find more junk to clutter up their house. But Stacy wasn’t looking for junk. She was looking for the good stuff.
“Welcome back,” Janice Lind greeted her.
“You’re still here?” Stacy teased.
“I’m here a lot.”
Janice was an attractive older woman and had been one of the town’s movers and shakers for years. Her husband, Swede, owned the garage. Officially he was retired, leaving the running of the business in younger hands, but he still went to work every day. And while he was busy with the garage, his wife was busy with her volunteer work. Her biggest claim to fame was the fact that her cakes always won the annual bake-off that raised funds to maintain historic town buildings.
“We can certainly use more volunteers,” Janice added.
“Yeah?”
“One morning or afternoon a week. We especially need people to sort through the donations and arrange the merchandise. And help with boxing up the clothes to send on.”
“So you ship the clothes over to Seattle.”
“Yes, but we keep everything else. It’s fun working here. We get to sift through all kinds of interesting things,”
Stacy could imagine. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and wandered over to a corner display of Christmas decorations, which were marked seventy-five percent off. Wow. This was better than a department store sale.
Within twenty minutes Stacy had amassed a collection of candle holders, swags and figurines (including a new Santa to join her collection).
“Volunteers get twenty percent off,” Janice said as she rang up the sale.
Stacy went home with a bag full of goodies and a volunteer application.
* * *
Mother Nature decided to decorate Icicle Falls with fresh snow. Jen looked out her window and groaned as the snow continued to fall. Tomorrow was her first day working at Gingerbread Haus. How was she going to get to work if she couldn’t get out of her driveway?
You’ll just have to wake up early and use your shovel, she told herself. Or...
Garrett Armstrong had promised to come and dig out her driveway when it snowed. This was as good an excuse as any to talk to her woman-shy landlord. She checked the wall clock she’d acquired in Seattle the day before. (Vintage and funky, shaped like a rooster.) Eight o’clock. Was he at work? There was only one way to find out.
“I’m finishing my shift at the station so I can come over later,” he said when she called. “There’s not much sense in digging you out until this stops.”
When would that be? She looked out the window again. Unlike her vintage clock, what she saw there didn’t make her smile. The snow seemed to be coming down in buckets.
“It’s supposed to ease up this afternoon,” he said. “I’ll see you then.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” This time when he came over she’d make sure he gave her a chance to show him just how much.
Meanwhile, she could write. She sat down with her laptop and opened up the document she’d simply labeled “Book.” She sat staring at the blank screen, tapping the keyboard, hoping inspiration would come. Her sister made this look so easy. How did she do it?
Jen decided to call her and ask. “I have writer’s block,” she declared when Toni answered the phone.
“There’s no such thing,” Toni scoffed.
“Yes, there is ’cause I’ve got it.”
“You haven’t figured out what you want to say yet.”
“Is that my problem?”
“One of them,” Toni joked. “You know, a book’s a pretty big project to tackle, Jen-Jen. Why don’t you start with something a little more manageable, like a blog?”
A blog? Somehow, that sounded even more challenging than a book. A book you could work on when you felt like it. A blog had to be done on a regular basis. She wasn’t sure she could come up with enough material. “What would I blog about?”
“Maybe your new, simple life in Icicle Falls. You might build a following and eventually get a bo
ok deal. At least it’ll get you started.”
“I guess,” Jen said dubiously. “This morning all I can think to write is ‘I hate snow’ about a million times.”
Toni chuckled. “I can tell you’re loving your new home.”
“Actually, I am,” Jen said. “I’ve just got to learn to drive in this stuff. Maybe I should get an SUV.”
“Well, don’t run out and buy one today,” Toni cautioned.
The way it was snowing, that wouldn’t be happening.
“You can’t afford it.”
“I bet I could if I traded in my Toyota.”
“At least wait until Wayne and I can get up there. Wayne can help you.”
Her brother-in-law was a computer geek, not a car mechanic. “Wayne doesn’t know anything about cars.”
“No, but he’s a man, and if you bring a man with you when you’re looking for a car, you’re not as likely to get taken advantage of.”
“Nobody does that anymore,” Jen scoffed. Her sister was such a cynic.
“Oh, sure. And I still believe in Santa. If you don’t want to wait for Wayne, you could get your landlord to go with you. How is Mr. Hottie, by the way? Have you seen him since he rescued you from the ditch?”
“He’s coming over later today to get the snow off my driveway.”
“Mmm, interesting,” Toni said. “How are you going to thank him?”
“Not the way I’d like to,” Jen said, only half-kidding. “I don’t think he’s into me. Do you think he’s gay?”
“No, I’ve got great gaydar, and I didn’t pick up any vibes like that. In fact, just the opposite. I caught him looking at you once and it was very hetero.”
“Well, something’s off. Why else would he run away when I invited him in?”
“Past his curfew?” Toni cracked. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s got someone.”
It was depressing to hear someone else voice what she’d thought. She said goodbye to her sister and went back to staring at her laptop screen.
A blog, huh? Well, why not? She found a free blog site and played around with the format. Picking a name for her blog kept her occupied for nearly an hour. What to call it? This Is What I’m Doing Until I Can Come Up with a Book. Lame-o.
The Cottage on Juniper Ridge Page 14