One Woman's Junk

by J. B. Lynn

  Amanda glanced back at her sister. “I wasn’t—” She realized Beatrice was ignoring her.

  She returned her attention to the silent man.

  But he wasn’t there.

  “What the—” She looked around the shop but couldn’t spot him. The place wasn’t that big. Sure, it was full of stuff, but there was really no place a grown man could hide. And yet, she couldn’t find him.

  She glanced quickly at the door to see if something was wrong with the bell overhead, but it appeared to be in working condition. Confused, she spun around slowly. Searching.

  “Did you see—” she began to ask Beatrice, but before she had gotten through the question, the front door opened, the bell jangled, and a large woman wearing very brightly colored clothes burst in.

  “Hi,” she said with a wide smile. “I’m Sandy.”

  “Amanda,” Amanda answered automatically. She took in the woman’s look, wearing a rainbow of colors. She had a lined face, blue eyes the color of the sky, and what appeared to be a perpetual smile.

  “I’m one of the pickers,” Sandy explained.

  Amanda took that to mean that was why Sandy was carrying an oversized cardboard box.

  “Do you want to put that down?” She gestured toward the counter where the cash register sat.

  “That would be great. It’s heavy.” Sandy carried the box over and plopped it down on the counter with a relieved sigh. It tinkled slightly. “Are you keeping the place open?”

  Beatrice and Amanda exchanged a look.

  “Oh my gosh,” Sandy said. “Where are my manners; I’m so sorry for your loss. I shouldn’t have just barged in here wanting to talk business. Letty was a wonderful woman.”

  Amanda nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Did you know her well?” Beatrice asked, wheeling her chair closer to them.

  “Well enough to have been surprised that she’d set foot in Red Bug Slough and well enough to know that you’re wearing her ring,” she said, nodding at Beatrice’s hand. “And you’re wearing her earrings,” Sandy said, peering closely at Amanda.

  “I guess you knew her pretty well,” Amanda said.

  “Everybody who knew Letty, loved Letty,” Sandy said. Her perpetual smile drooped, and for a moment Amanda got a glimpse of her grief. It reawakened her own and a lump rose in her throat as her own grief regarding the loss of her godmother flooded back.

  At that moment, Greta came bustling out of the back room. “Hi, Sandy.”

  “I brought in Fiestaware,” Sandy explained. “A pretty decent set.”

  Greta nodded.

  “Forgive me,” Amanda said, “but what’s that?”

  Beatrice began to chuckle.

  Sandy and Greta stared at Amanda in dismay.

  “You don’t know what Fiestaware is?” Sandy asked in disbelief.

  “Only the greatest—” Greta began.

  “It’s brightly colored plates and stuff,” Beatrice told her sister.

  “Letty was kind of a Fiestaware connoisseur,” Greta offered.

  Sandy nodded enthusiastically. “She certainly was. Half the stuff I brought in for her to re-sell, she ended up buying for herself directly.”

  “So, all that stuff upstairs in primary colors…?” Amanda asked.

  “That’s got to be it,” Beatrice said. “It’s actually quite collectable. We should be able to make a decent profit on it, considering if Sandy, here, is willing to let it go.”

  Sandy squinted at Beatrice. “Ah,” she said slowly. “You must be Bea.”

  Surprised, Beatrice blinked. Then nodded.

  “Letty always said you were the bargainer.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Beatrice said with a smile.

  Amanda watched the exchange with interest. It was fascinating to watch her baby sister deal with people who didn’t see her as a needy five-year-old. It made her wonder how many times she’d misjudged Bea’s actions based on her own outdated biases. Her baby sister had grown up, but she still thought of her as a child.

  “Let me show you what I’ve got,” Sandy said, digging into the box and pulling out a big brightly colored plate.

  “Nice,” Beatrice approved.

  Amanda moved away, content to allow her sister, who obviously knew what she was talking about, handle this part of the business.

  She looked out the window of the shop and spotted the man in the seersucker suit standing outside. “I’ll be right back,” she threw over her shoulder.

  Beatrice, Sandy, and Greta, all oohing and aahing over the dinnerware, barely acknowledged her.

  As Amanda started to walk toward the door, the dog whined.

  “Do you have to go out?” Amanda asked.

  The dog trotted toward the door. “I don’t have a leash for you,” Amanda said. “Hang on a second.” She went and grabbed the longest, thinnest belt she could find off the rack, looped it through the dog’s makeshift collar, an identification bracelet someone at the hospital had put on him, and made a short makeshift leash. “Okay, here we go.” She opened the door, the bell jangled, and she stepped outside into the heat.

  The seersucker man had moved down the street, so Amanda used the excuse of walking the dog to move nearer to him.

  She wasn’t sure why she felt so drawn to him, but she felt the need to have a conversation.

  She’d only gone a few steps when there was a crash behind her.

  Whirling, she saw a man struggling to put a large wooden piece of furniture into a truck.

  The wood had smashed against the metal bumper, making the noise.

  “Do you need a hand?” she called out.

  He looked over at her, smiled, and shook his head. With one big heave, he got the furniture into the truck.

  Wiping his hands on his jeans, he approached her. “You must be the third of Letty’s girls,” he said. “Excuse me, ‘women’.”

  Amanda nodded, wondering which of her sisters had corrected him.

  The dog looked at him expectantly.

  The man crouched down and extended his hand. “Hey, buddy. Have they figured out your name yet?”

  Amanda wondered how he seemed to know her sisters and the dog. “Not yet.”

  If that surprised the man, he didn’t show it. Instead, he straightened and extended his hand. “Ash Costin,” he said, pumping her palm enthusiastically. “The furniture shop is mine. I met your sisters earlier.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Amanda said.

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told them,” Ash said. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

  “Thank you,” Amanda replied.

  “I’ve got a delivery to make,” Ash said. Then he pointed at the sky, which was quickly turning gray. “Best to get it done before it rains.”

  Amanda nodded her understanding and continued her walk with the dog.

  The man in the seersucker suit had disappeared again.

  10

  The shop was busy almost all day, keeping Greta, Amanda, and Beatrice on their toes. Well, technically, Bea wasn’t on her toes, she was in the chair, but she was kept very busy.

  She kind of liked meeting the regulars. Some of them were regular consigners, some were regular buyers, and some of them, according to Greta, were compulsive looky-loos who never bought anything but always came in to say hello.

  Even though Sarasota was a decent size city, Beatrice soon learned that this was a tight-knit community.

  She wasn’t sure what Amanda was looking for, but she noticed her older sister kept looking out the window.

  “I think we can handle it,” Beatrice said finally.

  Amanda looked at her. “What?”

  “I think Greta and I can handle the shop if you need to be somewhere. You’re obviously not mentally here,” Beatrice said.

  Greta glanced at her watch. “Sorry, but my kids get out of school in about twenty minutes. It’s time for me to go.”

  She gathered her purse and hurried toward the front door. She glanced back at the
Concordia sisters. “You guys really are everything Letty said you are,” she said, her eyes misting over with tears. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  With that, she left, the bell over the door jangling.

  Beatrice swallowed hard, fighting back her own tears.

  Amanda busied herself straightening a row of blouses that didn’t need straightening. “What do you think of this one?” she asked, holding up a bright purple shirt that had a dozen plastic donuts sewn on it. “Do you think it’s me?”

  Bea giggled and then grew serious. “Are you serious about staying here and running the place?”

  “Yes,” Amanda said, rehanging the donut shirt. “I really don’t have a reason to go home.” She glanced over. “And you don’t really have a home.”

  Beatrice winced. “Ouch.”

  “The truth hurts,” Amanda muttered.

  Beatrice nodded. She didn’t have a home. She just moved from job to job, following the parties, following the money. Permanence had never been of importance, and now she had nothing. No home to return to. No friends that really cared. That was evident by the fact that despite posting about the loss of Letty on social media, not a single person had bothered to even call her.

  “But Winnie wants to sell as soon as possible,” Amanda said sadly. “So even if we both stay here, it’s only a temporary reprieve. In eighteen months, we’d have to pack up and sell.”

  “Or buy her out,” Beatrice said. She slapped her hand over her mouth, not believing that those words had escaped her lips.

  Amanda turned and stared at her. “Are you serious?”

  “I don’t think we should make any rash decisions of any kind,” Bea backpedaled desperately. “We’re in shock. We’re grieving. We almost died last night.”

  Amanda nodded slowly, disappointment shadowing her gaze. “That may be the smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

  “I’m not always the flighty idiot everyone seems to think I am,” Beatrice said bitterly.

  “I didn’t mean—” Amanda began.

  She was interrupted by the jangling of the bell as the door swung open.

  It was the aroma that hit them first. It was a mixture of lavender, patchouli and smoke.

  Beatrice blinked, and leaned back in her chair, trying to escape the stench.

  “Can we help you?” Amanda asked.

  The woman who had stepped into the shop, probably in her mid-sixties, dressed in voluminous amounts of tie-dye and brightly colored gauze, shook her head. “I’m here to help you.”

  The sisters exchanged a worried look.

  “I’m Harmony,” the woman announced, like that should mean something.

  “I’m a soprano,” Beatrice quipped.

  She was rewarded with a chuckle from her sister. It was an old joke. Letty loved to sing, but she was terribly off tune. Her goddaughters would all take different parts of a song, just to drown out their godmother.

  The memory made both Beatrice and Amanda smile.

  “I’m Harmony Divine,” the woman elaborated.

  Beatrice thought that that was probably the best drag-queen name she’d ever heard. She squinted at the person before her, trying to determine whether or not she was, in actuality, in drag. Considering she wasn’t wearing a stitch of make-up on her sun-damaged skin, Beatrice decided the answer was sadly, no.

  “Is there something we can help you with, Miss Divine?” Amanda asked coolly.

  “Letty didn’t tell you about me?” The woman’s voice crackled with disappointment.

  Again, Beatrice and Amanda exchanged a look. Amanda shook her head slightly.

  “No, she didn’t,” Beatrice said.

  “I run the Sea, Sand and Psychics shop,” Harmony explained.

  “Oh, that explains the smell,” Beatrice blurted out.

  “Beatrice!” Amanda admonished.

  Beatrice shrugged. “Sorry?”

  Harmony laughed. “No worries. It took Letty a little while to get used to it, too. But we were very good friends and I know exactly who you are.”

  Beatrice wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that.

  Harmony focused on Amanda. “You’re Amanda, the oldest, the responsible one.”

  “Winnie’s pretty responsible,” Beatrice said, feeling the need to defend their middle sister.

  Harmony shook her head. “According to Letty, she’s the artistic one.”

  Amanda shrugged. “You could say that.”

  Harmony turned her gaze to Beatrice. Beatrice struggled to sit up a little straighter in her chair, worried about how her godmother had described her.

  “And you’re Beatrice. Youngest, wildest, with a predilection for taking things that don’t belong to her.”

  Beatrice froze, thinking of the black sheep that she had stuffed in her pocket. She could have sworn she heard the little voice say, “Baaa!” and worried the others could hear it, too.

  “Hang on a sec,” Amanda interjected. She marched across the store and put herself between Beatrice and the stranger. “You don’t have any right to come in here and talk about my sister like that.”

  Beatrice didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It wasn’t as though Amanda hadn’t called her those exact things herself, but she wasn’t about to let somebody else do it. Beatrice didn’t know if that meant Amanda was hypocritical or that she loved her.

  “I meant no harm,” Harmony said with a kind smile. “Letty always did say that I sometimes let my mouth get ahead of my heart.” She looked from one sister to the other. “She would have been so pleased you are here.”

  She bent down and offered her hand to Beatrice. “Maybe we should start again. I’m Harmony Divine.”

  Beatrice glanced up at Amanda, searching for some guidance. But her sister didn’t give her any.

  Beatrice extended her hand, slipping her fingers into Harmony’s grasp.

  Maybe it was the smell emanating from the woman, but all of a sudden, she felt lightheaded.

  Harmony covered Beatrice’s hand with her other hand, keeping her trapped. “Oh,” she said with interest. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  Amanda murmured something in reply, but Beatrice couldn’t hear it. It was like she was transported.

  All of a sudden, she was back on Siesta Key Beach, but now it was a sunny day, there was a good size crowd, gulls screeched, children laughed.

  It all had a very happy vibe, even with the incessant pounding noise in the background. And there, floating above the sand, like a mirage, was Letty. She was smiling, her eyes closed, head tipped back, enjoying the sun beating on her face.

  Beatrice smiled, soaking up the happy, peaceful feeling.

  Harmony released her and stepped back. Beatrice was all of a sudden aware of an argument going on in the shop.

  “…secrets.” Amanda was practically yelling.

  Beatrice had no idea what just happened, but Amanda looked furious.

  “You don’t understand,” Harmony said, trying to diffuse the situation. “If you would just let me explain…”

  “Get out!” Amanda said, pointing to the door. “Out. Now.”

  At that moment, the door jangled, and Winnie walked in, she seemed to be annoyed about something, but the moment she saw Amanda’s fury, her own evaporated.

  “Out!” Amanda yelled.

  Harmony offered Beatrice an apologetic smile. “I’m only a few doors down.”

  “Do I have to call the police?” Amanda asked.

  “What’s wrong?” Winnie asked, looking confused by the chaos she’d walked into.

  Amanda didn’t answer, she just glared at Harmony, arms crossed over her chest.

  The older woman bustled out of the store. “Nice to meet you, Edwina,” Harmony threw over her shoulder as the door swung shut.

  Winnie blinked at Harmony’s retreating form.

  “She’s banned from the store,” Amanda declared dramatically.

  Winnie looked to Beatrice for an explanation. “I got a little lightheaded,” Beat
rice said. “I don’t quite know what happened.”

  As one, Beatrice and Winnie turned to stare at their older sister.

  Crossing her arms, Amanda stared silently back.

  “So, is your business practice going to be chasing people out of the shop on a regular basis?” Winnie asked.

  “You don’t understand,” Amanda said. “What that woman claimed---”

  “I’d love to know what she said,” Winnie interrupted “But not now. The landlord for the building is on his way.”

  “So, what?” Amanda glared at Winnie. “Did you just sell it out from under us?”

  Winnie took a step back, surprised by Amanda’s attack. “You think I would do that?”

  “Well, you’re the one who’s supposed to be the shark in business,” Amanda retorted sharply. “You made it clear you don’t want to make a run of this place. I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  Beatrice rolled her wheelchair forward, placing herself between her two sisters. “Stop it.”

  Mouths agape, her sisters looked at her, surprised she was giving them an order. Bea understood their reaction. Since she’d always been so much younger and smaller than them, it felt odd for her to be playing referee after all these years. She kind of liked the power.

  “Letty wouldn’t have wanted us to be fighting,” Beatrice said. “This place was her dream. She loved this town. She loved us.”

  Winnie and Amanda both looked away guiltily.

  “Why is the landlord coming?” Beatrice asked Winnie quietly.

  “Apparently, he wants us out,” Winnie said.

  When Amanda opened her mouth to speak again, Winnie hurried to add, “Apparently, he wants most of the people in this shopping strip out, it’s not just us.”

  “Can he do that?” Amanda asked worriedly.

  “I don’t know,” Winnie said. “I only got the rumor from the kid who works for the dry cleaner.”

  “We can’t let him do that,” Beatrice said with determination. “We can’t just let him squash Letty’s dream.”

  11

  Beatrice had spent more than her fair share of time with rich and powerful people. She had no doubt that the man who walked into the shop, in his pink shirt, too broad smile, too carefully coiffed hair, and too loud voice, thought himself to be rich and powerful.