“Aren’t these a hoot?” the young woman asked her husband.
“They’re butt ugly, if you ask me,” he answered. “Who wants burlap shower curtains?”
“But look at the lettering. It’s like they’re old feed sacks or something,” she said, ignoring her husband’s sarcastic tone. Vienna had to admire her fortitude. “I think these would be so cute in our guest bathroom.”
“Come on, Mary Beth, let’s get out of here,” he urged. “This place is dorky.”
“I love this store!” Mary Beth exclaimed. “How can you say it’s dorky, Richard? Where else can you find Ralph Lauren displayed next to burlap shower curtains? This place is unique, and I’m not leaving until I’ve seen everything in it.”
Little Ricky, as Vienna immediately dubbed him, crossed his arms and pouted. He regressed so quickly that Vienna was surprised he didn’t stamp his foot and suck his thumb. Mary Beth continued to look at shower curtains, ignoring her petulant husband. Vienna didn’t blame Mary Beth at all. She disliked any husband who couldn’t make time for his wife’s interests. Shopping might not be intellectually stimulating or as exciting as a football game, but did it really require that much energy for a husband to get involved?
However, Vienna had to admit that Mary Beth wasn’t being all that receptive to Little Ricky’s feelings. She’d grabbed a wicker basket and was filling it with towels, not even bothering to ask Little Ricky if he liked them, completely ignoring him as he stood behind her with his arms folded. Was it really that difficult for Mary Beth to include Little Ricky in her activities? It was no wonder Little Ricky was acting like a child when Mary Beth was obviously so keen to play mommy.
When Vienna realized that Little Ricky’s eyes were glued on her breasts, she decided to intervene. Turning to Mary Beth, she said, “Hi! Having fun?”
“Yes, thank you. Do you work here?” Mary Beth asked.
Before Vienna could answer, Little Ricky said, “Of course, she does, Mary Beth. Strangers don’t just walk up and say hi. She’s probably going to try to sell you those stupid burlap curtains.”
“You’d be surprised,” Vienna said. “We do our best to make Drayden’s feel like a second home, so people get comfortable here and interact a lot. It’s a fun place. I do work in the store, but in Cosmetics. I’m more likely to push nail polish on you than those curtains.”
“Sorry,” Little Ricky said, obviously chagrined.
“It’s okay, honey,” Vienna said. “Where are you two from?”
“We’re here from Texas,” Mary Beth answered.
“Texas!” Vienna exclaimed, thinking that might explain the oversized purse. “Do you like barbecue?”
“Of course!” Little Ricky said, his voice suddenly booming.
“We’ve got a fabulous outdoor section right over there,” Vienna said, pointing across the floor. “You can even get branding irons made with your initials. You should check it out.” Vienna turned to Mary Beth and added, “They’ve got burlap picnic table covers, too. Go over there with him and take a look.”
Vienna watched them walk away, once again holding hands. Stephanie Flaegler, the manager of Linens, walked over and said, “Vienna, I keep telling you to use your powers for evil instead of good, but you just won’t listen!”
“I’m perfect, and I must be stopped,” Vienna stated emphatically. “I couldn’t help myself. They were so nauseatingly sweet together. I had to butt in.”
“I hate to turn into a manager on you, but are you on the clock?” Stephanie asked.
Vienna smiled and said, “I’m on a fifteen-minute break.”
“Exactly how many of those do you take in a given day?”
Vienna held a burlap place mat above her head and shouted, “Union!”
When she returned to the Lillith Allure counter, Meg said, “Don’t get too cozy. Melanie wants to see you in her office.”
“Damn,” Vienna muttered, wondering if her manager was finally going to penalize her for taking unauthorized breaks.
Bianca, who was lining the lips of an elderly woman, looked up from her work and said, “I don’t think it’s anything bad. Melanie seemed like she was in a good mood. Besides, she likes you. I’m sure if I was called in to see her, I’d get fired.”
“I’d cover you when you go in, but my mother’s got my AK-47,” Meg said. “Just remember my grandmother’s wise words: ‘Stay low and keep your knife in your right hand.’”
“How funny! My grandmother said the exact same thing to me on my wedding day!” Vienna exclaimed.
When she joined Melanie in the Cosmetics office, she was prepared for the worst and ready to resign at the slightest inkling that things were going south. She was slightly shocked when Melanie asked, “Vienna, have you ever thought about entering Drayden’s management program?”
“No. But does Drayden’s have a twelve-step program? I might join that.”
“Meg and Bianca recently had their annual reviews,” Melanie explained. “They had nothing but good things to say about you, and how much fun they have working with you. It’s not just them; there are other associates at other counters who feel the same. You’ve only been here a few months and you have the top sales at your counter; you rank number five in the whole department.” She consulted a file, then continued. “Twenty-five percent of your sales are at other counters. I like that you’re not afraid to take your clients to other counters. Your product-knowledge skills are exceptional. You have fun and get the job done. I admire that.”
“Thank you,” Vienna said, feeling a little embarrassed at all the fuss. “Okay, you talked me into it. I will run for president!”
Melanie laughed. She closed the file, leaned back in her chair, and said, “Tammy Milton is taking a management position in the Eau Claire store. I’ll need a new assistant manager in a couple of months. Will you consider training for the position?”
Vienna examined her left hand and said, “What, no ring? What kind of proposal was that?”
“I’m not getting down on my knees,” Melanie said. “I’m wearing Wolford hose, Vienna. Even you aren’t worth putting a run in them.”
“I’ll think about it,” Vienna finally said.
“Fantastic! Now, go to lunch.”
Vienna returned to her counter. Bianca was painting the elderly woman’s nails a dark shade of red. Meg was dusting shelves, until Vienna sat down on one of the vacant stools. She turned around and said, “You look like you narrowly escaped a mortar attack. What happened?”
“She offered me a promotion,” Vienna said.
“You poor thing,” Meg said. “Wait. Why is that a bad thing? It’s not like you lost a limb after walking through a minefield.”
“Your grandfather?” Vienna asked.
“No. My uncle,” Meg said.
“Do you have any aspirin? I feel a massive headache coming on,” Vienna said, rubbing her temples.
“I might have some,” the elderly woman said. She opened her purse with her free hand and placed several medication bottles on the counter. “What do you need? I’ve got verapamil, Darvocet, Diamox, Vicodin, Percocet.” She continued looking through her purse. Bianca stared with her mouth hanging open. Meg and Vienna shared an amused glance. “How about some diazepam?”
“I’ll get some Advil when I go to lunch,” Vienna said. “Thank you, though. It’s sweet of you to offer.”
The woman shrugged and swept the bottles back into her purse. She wrenched her hand from Bianca, examined it, and said, “This is hooker polish.”
When the woman walked away, Bianca said, “I never do anything right.” Without another word, she headed toward the women’s restroom.
“That girl needs group therapy,” Vienna said.
“Are you going to lunch?” Meg asked.
“I think so,” Vienna said.
“I’m going to take a fifteen-minute break before you go,” Meg said quickly. “Okay? Great! Bye!”
Meg dashed from their department, red-streaked hair fly
ing behind her as she ran, before Vienna could stop her. Vienna said, “That was odd.”
“You’re telling me,” a male voice said from behind her.
Vienna shrieked and turned around to see a large man standing there. She caught her breath and said, “You scared me! Don’t do that to people.”
The man ducked his head and stroked his long grizzly beard, looking like a sheepish bear, as he said, “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. Is there any way I can help you?”
“Yes. Is there a spa or something like that in this store?”
Vienna’s eyes didn’t move from his for a second. She used her peripheral vision to assess him, taking note of his complexion, long greasy hair, dirty jeans, and poor posture. She resisted the part of her mind that wanted to take him out back and hose him down. Instead, she said, “Not yet. They’re planning on converting part of the fourth floor into a spa in the future. Probably sometime next year. The other Drayden’s spas are fantastic. They have goat’s milk baths, mud wraps, all sorts of treatments based on Nordic home remedies.”
“Oh,” the man said, looking forlorn. “Okay. Sorry to bother you.”
Before he could walk away, Vienna said, “Wait. What is it you’re looking for?” When he turned around again, she thrust out her hand and said, “I’m Vienna.”
“I’m DeWitt,” he said. “Maybe you could help me. I wanted a makeover.”
“Honey, you don’t need any blush or lipstick. Trust me,” Vienna said. “Your friends would probably beat you up if you bought anything from my counter.”
“That’s just it. I don’t have any friends,” DeWitt said. “I want to change everything. New clothes, new hair, new me.”
Meg returned to the Lillith Allure counter and asked, “Is everything okay, Vienna?”
Vienna could see the ridicule lurking behind Meg’s concerned expression and realized why DeWitt wanted to become a new person. She glanced at the surrounding counters and noticed other Cosmetics associates looking her way and whispering to each other.
“No, Meg, I’m fine,” she said loudly. “Now that you’re back, I’m going to lunch. DeWitt, would you like to join me? Of course you would. I won’t take no.” She linked her arm in DeWitt’s and led him toward the store’s entrance. She lowered her register and said, “You don’t want anything in this store anyway. It’s all a bunch of overpriced crap.” She took him to Bert’s Bar & Grille and commandeered a table for them. “What’ll you have, DeWitt? I’m buying.”
“I’m really not that hungry,” he said.
“Who said anything about eating?” she asked. It was three o’clock in the afternoon; most of the Drayden’s staff had already been to lunch, so she wasn’t worried about running into anyone she knew. She turned to their waiter and said, “I’ll have a Corona.” She raised her eyebrows at DeWitt, who nodded. “Make that two, please.”
She engaged DeWitt in small talk and was pleasantly surprised that she enjoyed his company. She found herself talking openly with him, especially since he was reticent to talk about himself. She told him about growing up in Gary and how she never felt like she fit in. “My friends were all listening to Michael Jackson and anything R & B. I was into hair bands. Rocking out to Bon Jovi alone in my room.”
“You’re kidding me,” DeWitt said.
“I kid you not,” Vienna said. “I had all the albums. White Lion, Whitesnake, Great White, all the white bands. Come to think of it, there were no black guys in hair bands.”
“Nuh-uh,” DeWitt said, gesturing with his beer bottle. “Guns N’ Roses. Slash was black.”
“Was?” Vienna asked, and laughed. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. Anyway, I could give you a good speech about how we’re all different, but unique in our own little ways. But I won’t. We all know that. People will make you feel like crap every now and then. That’s a given. But you’ve obviously got some self-esteem issues going on here. I think you’re a pretty cool guy. What’s got you so rattled?”
“I met this man who seemed to really like me. Turns out he was using me to get back at a friend of mine. At least, I thought she was my friend. She found out what he’d done and was really mean to me. She said a bunch of horrible things; I guess some of it hit home.”
“I’m not following,” Vienna said. She ordered another round and took a sip from a fresh bottle. “How did this guy use you?” DeWitt rolled his eyes and stared pointedly at her. “Oh. Now I get it. God, men suck.”
“If you’re lucky,” DeWitt joked. “No, seriously, RB wasn’t so bad, even though he was kind of two-faced about it. It’s Nat who was the mean one.”
“Nat? Who’s he?”
“She. Natasha,” he explained.
Vienna nearly spit her beer all over him. “Natasha? Does she work at Drayden’s?”
“She’s a manager,” DeWitt said with a nod. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, since you work at the same place.” Then, with no encouragement from Vienna, he described Natasha’s verbal abuse in vivid detail, obviously needing to get it off his chest.
Vienna shuddered with sympathy for him. Maybe he wasn’t a catch, but even DeWitt was worthy of being treated with kindness and respect. He was a human being, not a cockroach. “That woman makes me want to scream,” Vienna stated. “I’m sorry she treated you that way. How do you know her?”
Vienna listened with her psychologist face as DeWitt described Natasha’s celebrity obsession and its manifestation. It was actually mild compared to some of the aberrant behavior Vienna had treated in her time. Apparently, the bitch was like Sears—she had a softer side, and it played with dolls. Maybe she’d invented an entire alternate universe of dolls, and her Derek doll had hurt her Natasha doll’s feelings. Vienna’s mind wandered into a fantasy of Derek leaving G.I. Joe on Natasha’s desk with a menacing note.
“Forget her,” she said and directed the subject back to DeWitt. “Let’s talk about you. How’d you end up with the sewing gig in the first place?”
“I used to manage the office of a business that sold and rented heavy equipment,” DeWitt said. “I scheduled employees. Jobs. Rentals. Then farms started failing and being foreclosed. We were doing a lot of repossessions. Auctions. We had to cut back staff. My life was turning into a John Mellencamp song. My granny taught me to sew when I was a little boy. Easy stuff, but also embroidery, needlepoint. I worked for myself and did whatever sewing I could get. Natasha saw one of my ads in Hoe & Sew and called me. She was a cash cow. I guess she was paying as much for my silence as for anything else. And now,” he affected a drawl, “she ain’t payin’ me nothin’. I figured I need to find office work again.”
“Don’t let her undermine your faith in your abilities.” Vienna pulled a pen from her purse and wrote down Christian’s name and number on a napkin. “I’m going to hook you up with a friend of mine.”
“Is he cute?”
“Yes, but he’s also straight,” Vienna said. “I’m thinking he could get you a lot of alterations work. Several of his clients are upscale, so you might want to think about putting forth a more professional appearance.” When DeWitt reddened, Vienna added, “Just get your beard trimmed, and maybe some new pants and shirts wouldn’t be a bad idea.” She took the napkin back. “I’ll write down the name of a couple of shops in the mall you can visit. Tell them what you’re doing and that I sent you, and they’ll help you. There’s nothing about you that needs changing. But every now and then, a house needs a new coat of paint. Know what I’m saying?”
“I got it,” DeWitt said. “Thanks, Vienna.”
After he left, Vienna finished her beer and pondered her position at Drayden’s. She was flattered that Melanie wanted to promote her, but she worried that accepting the position would keep her in retail. There was a side of retail that Vienna didn’t like, an angle confirmed by DeWitt. She didn’t like pandering to people’s insecurities, making them feel inferior just because they didn’t own a pair of designer jeans.
Vienna toyed with the c
uff of her Dolce & Gabbana shirt and felt guilty. She appreciated the finer things in life but never felt superior because of them. Or did she? She frowned, thinking about how judgmental she could be at times.
“At least I’m nothing like Natasha,” Vienna muttered. Even thinking about Natasha made Vienna bitter. People who preyed on the weak in order to feel superior nauseated her. She’d always hated the way Natasha treated the sales associates, especially Derek. As if he didn’t have enough problems already. Now that she knew Natasha’s wrath had spread outside of Drayden’s and into the rest of the mall, affecting innocuous individuals like DeWitt, she felt compelled to do something about it.
Vienna made up her mind to stay at Drayden’s long enough to bring Natasha down. Once that task was completed, she’d find another job in the mall, hopefully something that didn’t exploit people’s base insecurities.
“Maybe I could work in a bank,” Vienna mused.
“Is this Career Day?” a voice behind her asked.
Vienna turned around and saw Cart Man sitting at the table behind her. He smiled broadly and moved to the chair DeWitt had vacated. Vienna frowned after he sat down and said, “Please, have a seat.”
“Okay,” he said, still smiling. “Don’t worry; I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything. I just got here a few minutes ago, right before your boyfriend left. I didn’t know I have a rival for your affections.”
“I wasn’t aware that I’m such a prize,” Vienna said. “Do you think I’ll fit on your mantel? Or more importantly, do you think you’ll win?”
“I’m fairly confident,” he said.
“I can see that. However, DeWitt’s just an acquaintance. He’s not after my affections,” Vienna explained. “You shouldn’t be either.”
“I can’t help myself,” Cart Man said, leaning forward. “I’m helpless against your charms.”
Vienna riffled through her purse. She pulled a rabbit’s foot off her key chain and tossed it at him, saying, “Here. Knock yourself out and leave me be.” She dropped some money on the table and turned to leave.
“Vienna, wait. Would you have dinner with me on Friday night?”
Someone Like You Page 21