Was this all that would be left of her when she died? Furniture, a few vintage clothes, and a collection of old photographs? And the ashes of a cat that would surely die before she did? Now she was sinking into melancholy, too. She had to snap out of it.
“Lily, look at that!” Bish pointed at a glittering blue flapper dress hanging on the side of a wardrobe. “Perfect for the Homecoming dance. Is that dress, like, old? Is it vintage?”
“I believe it’s an original flapper dress. Seems to be in mint condition. Pretty rare.”
“A flapper dress, I knew it. Totally cool.”
“Do you even know what a flapper dress is?”
“It’s…what that dress is. It flaps. That’s why it’s a flapper.”
Lily laughed. “The word has a complicated history. ‘Flapper’ referred to the woman who wore the dress. Low waistline, no sleeves—a touch of wildness.”
“That’s me!”
“Why don’t you try it on?” But just as Lily reached out to take the dress, a woman grabbed it right off the hanger. She was tall, angular, and elegant, her blonde hair cut in a bob. Either she hadn’t noticed Lily and Bish, or she was ignoring them.
Bish gasped, and Lily took her arm and gently steered her away.
Bish yanked back her arm. “Did you even see that?”
“We should let it go,” Lily whispered.
Bish’s lips trembled. “But every time I want something—”
“You’ll find something better.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Bish receded into a private world, turning the bracelet around on her wrist. She looked bereft, and Lily realized then that if Bish’s mother had gone away, she probably wouldn’t return to help her daughter shop for a Homecoming dress. Dr. Cole wouldn’t have a clue, either. The poor kid.
The woman with the flapper dress had drifted off across the room. “Wait,” Lily whispered to Bish. “Stay here. Give me a minute.”
Lily strode toward the woman who held the flapper dress draped over her arm. What did Lily plan to say? She didn’t have a clue.
“Lovely dress, isn’t it?” she said. I sound ridiculous, she thought.
Close up, the woman had a boyish face. “It’s an original,” she said.
“I hope it holds up. Silk can seem strong, even when it’s about to fall apart.” Lily made a show of looking at the price tag. “Not bad for a flawed piece. That small hole in the fabric could be from a microscopic parasite similar to clothes moths.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose. “Moths?”
“The larvae eat the clothing. Silverfish, beetles, roaches, or termites will feed on fabric, too, if there’s a food or perspiration stain.” It was true.
The woman’s nose crinkled. “I didn’t know that.”
“The seams may have been re-stitched on a commercial machine, using cheap, fragile thread.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” The woman made as if to return the dress, but then she hesitated. An eternity passed. Bish watched and listened from across the room, and Lily imagined that she might be holding her breath.
The woman draped the dress over her arm again. “I’ll take my chances. But thanks for the warning.” And with that, she walked out of the room.
Lily and Bish stared at the spot where the woman had stood. She seemed to have sucked all the air out with her. But in that empty space, Lily saw the hint of an idea.
“Don’t worry,” she told Bish. “I’ve got a dress that might work for you.”
“You do?” Bish’s face instantly brightened.
“It’s the same color as the flapper dress, but it was originally made as a costume for the lead actor in Cinderella.”
“A Cinderella dress, really?”
“My husband designed it, but I could alter it. We could tone it down and make it fit you. We could even make it a bit…sexy.”
Bish’s cheeks flushed, and she looked around guiltily, as if her parents might be nearby. Then she lowered her voice. “You could fix it just for me?”
“I’ll try. But I can’t guarantee it will work.”
Bish glanced at her watch. “I have to go to my piano lesson, but I can try to come by the shop. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Whenever you want.”
On the rainy drive back to Fairport, Bish leaned her head against the passenger-side window. When Lily parked in front of her house, a log cabin with a green metal roof on a hill overlooking the water, Bish reached over and hugged Lily. “Thanks for fighting for me, for trying to get that flapper dress.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t succeed.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Bish pulled away, her face pensive. Then she smiled. “You know a lot about vintage stuff. That’s you, the knowledge queen. I have a feeling your shop will be okay.”
Lily smiled, her eyes filling. “You’re a sweet girl.”
“I’m not sweet. Don’t ever say that. I’m bad, so bad. Just ask my dad.”
“Whatever you say.”
“See you mañana.” Bish got out and rushed up the path to the door. A black cat appeared in the windowsill, looking out through startling green eyes. So this was where Dr. Cole lived, too. Lily hadn’t pictured such a lush garden of rhododendrons and lavender and fragrant sweetbox.
As Bish opened the front door, Lily glimpsed a shirtless man in the foyer. A ripple of chest muscle, strong shoulders. Her breath caught. It was Dr. Cole. She recoiled as he waved at her. She waved back, then quickly put the truck in reverse. She backed out of the driveway, racing back to the comfort and safety of her shop.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Kitty
When Lily returns to the shop, she unpacks bags of trinkets she bought at the estate sale. Then she looks through many dresses, talking to me the whole time.
“What do teenagers wear these days?” she asked me. “Don’t say little short postage stamp dresses. Bish’s dad will kill me.”
I follow her around, listening with infinite patience.
“He didn’t look like himself,” she mutters, choosing a glittering black dress, then putting it back on the hanger. “Do you think he was exercising? I mean, why would he stand at the door without a shirt on?”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, as usual.
She finally settles on a puffy dress, a shiny blue thing with big pleats. My paws itch to climb the fabric. “Perfect,” she says, and in the morning, Bish shows up to try on the monstrosity.
“This is my idea for alterations.” Lily shows Bish some lines scrawled on paper.
“Nobody else will be wearing anything like this,” Bish says with excitement. “They’re going to be so impressed.”
Lily pulls at the loose fabric at the armpit. “This area could come in quite a bit.”
“Maybe make the dress shorter.” Bish holds the hem up to her knees. “Like up to my thigh?”
“You don’t want it that short.”
“Everyone’s wearing minis. I can show you on Facebook. And tighter?”
“You need to ask your dad about the length. Not too tight, either.”
Bish tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Somehow, the dress makes her features appear even more delicate, almost breakable. I paw at the hem, squint up at her.
“You’re so cute, kitty! She wants it shorter, too.”
I just like to get up high. If I could, I would sit on her head.
“I’m not making the dress any shorter,” Lily says. “Your dad would kill me. I don’t want to get on his bad side.” She glances at the male statue.
“All my dad’s sides are bad. He doesn’t even want me to go to the dance. He wants me to study all the time. He doesn’t want me to have any fun.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. He’s protective.”
“He’s the evil version of Shrek. He’s totally an ogre. The first chance I get, I’m leaving. I’m not staying on this island.”
“Why not? It’s so beautiful.”
“And boring.” Bish sticks out her bottom lip in an exag
gerated pout.
Lily is looking across the street at the construction site. Work has begun to add a new building. Then she turns back to Bish. “Where would you rather live? Are you applying for universities?”
“My dad wants me to. But I’m going to take a year off and travel with my mom. France, Italy, Germany, the Greek Islands.”
Yet another young human deluding herself with fantasies.
A strange look crosses Lily’s face. “The time away might help you figure out what you want.”
“Did you take time off?” Bish looks at Lily in the mirror. “Or did you go straight to college?”
College, university, school, jobs—all meaningless words to me, but humans find them important.
“I went straight to college,” Lily says. “I kept working. Then I met Josh. I started running his business, and it all worked out for the best.”
“How did you meet him?” Bish fusses with the waist of the dress.
“At City Lights bookstore in San Francisco. I was there with a friend, listening to a poet, and Josh was there, too. We looked at each other, and he made some comment about my necklace. He knew it was vintage Chanel.”
What a convoluted way to meet a mate. For my species, the introductions are rather swift, the farewells just as quick.
“So it was love at first sight?”
Lily gets the glazed, faraway look. “I suppose it was.”
“You didn’t graduate?”
“No, but you will, okay?”
“Why? I want to fall in love.”
“You can do both. Take a year off, then go to college and finish and you can fall in love, too.”
“The next time my mom comes back, she’s taking me with her.”
Oh, please, dispense with the wishful thinking.
“When is she coming back?”
“Whenever. How would I know?” Bish sticks out her right foot. I can’t help myself—I bat at her white knit sock. “Kitty, no! I need nylons and high heels, maybe like two inches.”
“Two inches! Isn’t that a bit much? You’ll look like a…”
“I can walk in heels. My mom taught me how. We used to play dress-up.”
“Maybe the heels can be a bit lower.”
“This is, like, the best dress ever,” Bish says, smiling at herself in the mirror. “But I need pumps.”
“You need princess shoes. I’ll keep an eye out.”
“My mom gave me a pair of princess shoes when I was young,” Bish says. I sense hollowness inside her, her gaze distant. What do people look at when they stare off like that?
“You’re still young,” Lily says.
“But I feel really old.”
When Bish goes back into the dressing room, I can hear her heartbeat, struggling to hold off the pain. Then the doctor comes inside, rattling keys, and Lily’s heartbeat goes haywire again.
“Dr. Cole!” she says. “Your jacket isn’t quite finished yet.”
“I came to pick up Bish—”
“She’s in the fitting room.”
He nods. “And to see if you want to grab dinner sometime.”
“Grab dinner?” She steps back, as if some hard object has just hit her.
“Yeah, a bite.” He shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Uh—”
“I could show you around the island a bit, maybe next Saturday?”
“Show me around the island?”
Why is she repeating everything he says?
“Hey, if you’re too busy—”
“No, no! I’m just—I was thinking about my schedule.” She looks past him, across the street again.
“So will Saturday work?”
“Yes, Saturday.”
“Great, I’ll pick you up around eleven.”
She nods, still looking stunned, as Bish emerges from the fitting room in her bright, striped clothes. “Dad! Guess what? Lily just showed me, like, the best dress for the Homecoming dance. It’s a Cinderella dress and completely magical. It’s, like, the best dress in the history of the entire universe.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Lily
What on earth had she just agreed to do? Go out with Dr. Ben Cole, morose father of Bish, jilted ex-husband forever pining for his lost wife? But Lily knew she had asked for this. She’d invited him to the shop to try on a jacket. She’d invited Bish to wear the Cinderella dress. But he’d been so direct, so clear. Was he attracted to her? Or did he feel sorry for her? Was he merely trying to fill his time? Add another notch to his belt?
She traipsed upstairs, the cat in tow, and checked through her clothes in the dresser drawers. She tried on various shirts, sweaters, pants, and skirts and threw each item into one of two piles on the bed. “Maybe and no,” she said, pointing to one, then the other.
The cat climbed onto the Maybe pile, but Lily picked her up and moved her onto the bedspread. She promptly climbed onto the No pile, and Lily gave up on moving her.
“What am I doing?” she asked.
The cat squinted at her.
“I’m a wreck. I don’t know how to go on a date. I don’t want to go on a date!” She leaned over the dresser and peered at her face in the mirror. A gaunt stranger, with large eyes set a little far apart and crow’s-feet, stared back at her with a slightly scared, haunted expression.
“Dammit, Josh, I don’t want to go out with other men. Don’t make me have to…put myself on the market again. Dress up, fix my hair, worry about what I look like to someone else.” She remembered their nights snuggling in front of the television in their pajamas, watching Masterpiece Mystery. She and Josh had become so comfortable with each other—there were no secrets or closed doors between them.
“I’ll never feel that comfortable again with anyone else. Takes way too long. But here I am, back in dating mode again when I never wanted to be. Ooh, not a date. An outing. But dinner. What do you think? I have to do this eventually, don’t I?”
The cat squinted and purred.
“I look terrible. Not terrible. I have bone structure. Don’t I?”
More purring.
“I need makeup. It’s all old and dusty in these containers.” She rummaged in the top drawer, found a container of foundation, then brushed glitter onto her skin. The powder crumbled. “This stuff is too old. How do I look? Will he even notice? Do I even want to do this?” She couldn’t imagine going to the cosmetics counter at a department store and trying to find new makeup. She supposed she ought to try to look nice in the shop, as well. Maybe she came across as austere, but she wasn’t selling herself. She was selling clothes.
But she did want to look beautiful, didn’t she? Even though she could never enter a relationship with Dr. Cole? This would be a casual outing, but still. He’d asked her out for a reason.
She put the makeup back in the drawer and looked at the two piles of clothes. Since when had she stopped caring what she wore, even with a store full of beautiful vintage garments? She could choose something from downstairs. She could and she would.
“I feel like a teenager. Silly and fluttery. What will Josh think of me?” She felt a sudden draft, a breath of cold air and the sensation of darkness. Was Josh here with her? Did he sense her buzz of confusion and excitement? The change inside her?
The cat looked up toward the junction of the wall and ceiling. Lily followed her gaze. “What do you see? Nothing there.” If Josh was really here, if he knew about her date, he showed no sign. Nothing moved in the room, and Lily heard no sound except the cat purring and the beating of her own heart.
Chapter Thirty
Lily
Saturday morning, Lily put on a mauve turtleneck sweater, jeans, thick socks, and sneakers—nothing fancy for a late-autumn outing on a blustery island with Dr. Cole. She was barely ready when she heard the knocking at the back door.
The cat leaped off the bed and rushed through the kitchen, as if she had been waiting for him. When he stepped into the mudroom, dressed for rain in an all-weather jacket, hiking p
ants, and waterproof boots, Lily’s mind rushed back to the image of him at his front door, shirtless. Could he see what she was thinking now?
He winked at the cat and petted her, then grinned at Lily. “Ready for an island tour?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he said, frowning at her.
Uh-oh. “Yes?”
“Stop it with the Dr. Cole stuff. Call me Ben.”
“Ben. Okay. I like that name.”
“Don’t have a choice. It’s what I got.”
“And Lily’s what I got.”
“Good name. You’re like a flower.”
“Thanks.” She blushed.
He spoke in a simple, direct way. No candlelight, no romance, but somehow she found that his words affected her.
She grabbed her purse and they pulled up their hoods and ran out through the rain to the truck. He’d tidied up inside. The library book and papers were gone. She found this endearing.
He drove through downtown to a secluded cove that she hadn’t known existed, but was close to town and easily accessible by car. The beach was rich with driftwood, rock, shells, and barnacles; the air was scented with sea salt and kelp.
“Bish and I call this our secret beach,” he said, “although I’m sure it has a name. I just can’t remember what it is.”
“Thanks for showing it to me. This is amazing!”
They hiked down a narrow path to a flat stretch of sand. He pointed across the water at a line of distant lights. “Seattle seems so far away, like a mirage.”
She shielded her eyes, her hair whipping in the wind. “I didn’t think so many boats would be out when the sea is choppy.”
“Speedboats are always out, but you don’t see many sailboats on a day like this. You always see eagles.” He pointed back toward the bluff, where madrone and fir trees leaned over the beach, their gnarled roots clinging to the cliffside. An eagle soared on an updraft, letting out a high-pitched shriek.
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