“Taller than me?” Vanessa asked. Bare footed, she stood around five-foot-eight, and she frequently wore boots with a two- or three-inch heel, unless it was one of the rare summer days where temperatures climbed into the eighties or nineties. She liked to be as tall as or taller than most men she encountered day to day. “It puts them in their place a bit,” she’d often say. That way of thinking was in large part what sealed the deal when my mother debated hiring her. Well, that and how attractive she was. Mother figured male customers – and more than a few female ones, too – would enjoy lingering and possibly buying when she was around.
“Plenty is a bit taller, yes.”
Vanessa and I began making our way out of my shop to greet the pair.
My mother in the meantime reached out and embraced my Aunt Lindy. I could see her running her hands up and down her back, and gave a couple of fatty folds below the bra strap a good squeeze.
“You look wonderful, Lindy,” my mother said. “You’ve put on a few pounds, but it makes your face look younger. At our age we often have to decide if we want our asses to look good, or gain a few pounds and let our faces look better. It’s a good choice on your part.”
“And you would know about asses,” Aunt Lindy replied tartly, “since you’ve always been one.”
My mother let out a theatrical laugh, delighted by the dig.
“And, Fiona my little sister… You’re as tiny as ever,” Aunt Lindy continued, waving her hands at my mother’s breasts.
“I’m close to sixty and they’re still not sagging,” my mother said. “Isn’t that right, hon?” she said, darting her eyes to Tom. He blanched and then turned away, looking all the while like he wanted to be anywhere but there. “Speak, Tom. You like this playground the best, don’t you?” My mother waved her hands up and down to frame her torso and shimmied her shoulders in his direction.
He nodded, an obsequious expression on his face. “Yes, yes. I love everything about you, Fi,” then, under his breath, “There, wife. Are you satisfied?”
“Not yet,” Mom said. “But I’ll make sure I am tonight.” She gave him a wink and he shook his head in defeat and rolled his eyes skyward.
Vanessa and Jordan watched the scene unfold. Jordan, who had sidled over near us, was clearly shocked by the exchange, but Vanessa was already well-versed in our family’s mouthy tendencies.
“They’re being kind of mean to each other,” he said as Tom walked closer to us and farther from Mom and Aunt Lindy.
“Son,” Tom said, clapping a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “That’s high tea manners for those two. Wait ’til they start drinking.”
Our group made its way to the sparring sisters.
“Hello Aunt Lindy,” I said. “I’m happy to see you.” That statement was true, too. I didn’t have any problems with her. My cousin, though, when she was on, which was often – well, that was another story. “Why isn’t Plenty out yet?” I asked, peering over at the LTD Inside I saw her fussing with her hair and makeup.
“She’s fixing her face. When I hit the curb she messed up her eyeliner so she had to start again.”
“Oh. Well, she can go inside Tom and Mom’s to fix it, if she’d like,” I offered.
Aunt Lindy brushed off the suggestion. “She’ll be done in a moment. She can’t be seen in public without her face intact. You know how she is. She needs to wear plenty of makeup, too,” she said.
The car window rolled down an inch. “Did someone say my name?”
“Not how you think,” Aunt Lindy commented. “Finish up and get on out here.” She looked bored with my cousin’s fussing. Of course, cosmetically she was just wearing her usual red lipstick and little else. While Plenty was one for excesses – of makeup and hair product in particular – Aunt Lindy held fast to her holy trinity of moisturizer, a crimson mouth, and avoiding the sun. Looking at her now, she presented a strong case for the religious application of sunscreen and the regular donning of hats.
I stepped closer to my aunt and wrapped my arms around her in a warm embrace. “Still wearing Chanel No. 5,” I asked.
“Always and forever,” she said.
A second later I picked up a mild burnt scent, like that of friction generated when contrasting textures scraped. I suspected Aunt Lindy was either annoyed by the last leg of her drive through town, or she was aggravated by Plenty’s primping.
Then the passenger door opened and out popped Plenty like a blonde jack-in-the-box. She tossed her pale yellow hair over her shoulder – it was lighter than it was a few days ago when she Skyped with me – as she sprang up and raised her arms in an ostentatious gesture.
Considering that the temperature had dropped in the last couple days, it was much too cold to wear a barely-there blouse without a bra, no less. And with the chill it was obvious Plenty was not wearing support.
“Aunt Fiona!” Plenty ran up to my mother to give her a hug and then to me to do the same.
I wrapped my arms around my cousin and caught a whiff of some kind of synthetic flowery fragrance that made me think of hairspray, followed by hints of boozy sweetness capped with caramel and peaches. I could feel her ribs as I rubbed my hands up and down her back. “Wow, you’re so skinny, Plenty.”
“Thank you,” she said breathlessly. “It’s the supplements I told you about. I brought you a bottle to try.”
I opened my mouth to protest, then thought better of it. I introduced her to Vanessa, whom she gave a disinterested glance to and offered a restrained hello and handshake. I knew she instantly saw Vanessa as competition, yet where Plenty was willowy and lithe, Vanessa nearly matched her in height, and nearly all extra weight went to her chest, hips and butt.
“What supplements?” Vanessa asked, training her gaze on me.
“I’ll tell you later,” I said.
Plenty, overhearing, chimed in. “They’re these great weight-loss supplements. I lost five pounds in one week while I was on them and had tons of energy.”
“I seem to remember you being hyper and irritable,” Aunt Lindy said.
Plenty ignored her mother and twirled around. “Now I’m a size two.” She looked Vanessa up and down. “They sell them all over. Maybe you’d like to try them, too?”
Vanessa opened her mouth to argue, but I rested my hand on her forearm to still her. I had known her for a few years and never once had heard her mention wanting to lose weight. She was practically the blueprint for physical perfection, and while she knew it, she didn’t have an ugly attitude about it. She did turn defiant, however, when people tried to tell her how she should look.
“Vanessa doesn’t need any of that,” I cut in. “Have you met Jordan? He’s our newest hire.”
Plenty turned gave him an enthusiastic embrace. “Jordan! I’ve heard so much about you and I’m thrilled to finally meet you!”
Jordan looked surprised. “You have?”
Plenty then ran over to Tom and gave him a lingering hug. “Oh, you’re so nice and warm,” she exclaimed. She looked like she was trying to grind her small bosoms into his chest. He looked extremely uncomfortable as he gave her a quick, tentative hug.
I saw my mother’s eyes darken for a moment as Vanessa and I gave each other surprised looks.
“My dear, you’re not dressed for the weather,” Tom replied, gently pushing the girl away. “It’s a few degrees warmer in Detroit, and you can still enjoy some summery weather in October, but here, if you have any sense, you’re wearing sweaters and sweatshirts.”
“Oh, I know, Uncle Tom. But I thought I’d bring a bit of my own special style to the great white north!”
“Great white north?” Vanessa whispered in disbelief. “They just drove three-hundred-fifty miles up I-75. They’re not those types who bring skis up here in July, expecting snow, are they?”
I shrugged and stifled the urge to laugh. “It is kind of a different world up here, though.”
I turned to look toward my shop and saw a group of customers heading in that direction. They stood in f
ront of the store next door, Farley’s Fudge, but I heard one of the party express interest in going to Blue’s Boutique.
“It looks like I’ve got some business, so Vanessa and I will see you later,” I told the crowd as we turned to go.
“Wait a second, Poppy!” Plenty called out. “Before you leave, let me get some selfies of us.” Vanessa gave me a mischievous look, then continued to my store.
I paused, conflicted for a moment, before Plenty darted over and wrapped an arm around me and tugged me close while she snapped a series of photos. She promptly began reviewing the images.
“Oh, I look too old in that one,” she said as she deleted a photo. “My nose looks weird there.” Delete.
“They looked fine to me,” I said, peering over her shoulder. “Why’d you trash that one?”
“Your face looked too fat.”
“It did?” I patted my cheek and chin for telltale signs of bloating. “I thought it looked fine,” I said.
“I couldn’t edit that one so easily, so I deleted it.”
“Edit?”
“Yeah,” Plenty said. “If I don’t like a photo and can’t fix it quickly, then I’ll delete it.”
“Okay then,” I said.
I left Plenty to delete and edit and returned to my store, where Vanessa was already engaging with the group – a couple who were wandering the tourist drag with their son and two daughters. Vanessa chattered happily with the entire family, telling stories about the area and going into great detail about the work of the artisans we had in stock. She also made a number of suggestions for places to eat and seek out entertainment.
When they left more than an hour later, the teenage girls had each bought rings and pendants, and their mother several candles.
“Going for employee of the month and aiming to head the tourism board?” I teased.
“Honestly, and don’t take this wrong, but I think I’d do just about anything to avoid your cousin Plenty after the way she rubbed herself up and down Tom. That was pretty bold. And disgusting.”
“For you and me both,” I agreed.
“Plus, you saw her pretty much snub me until she suggested I might want to try those diet pills. But she ‘knew’ all about Jordan and was so thrilled to meet him,” Vanessa huffed.
“Yeah, I did see that. She only mentioned the pills because she sees you as competition.”
“For what? I’ve got a boyfriend. I’m not going to stand in the way of her conquests so long as she doesn’t chase after Ethan.”
“She always is a bit competitive around other women.”
“And likes to try and put them in their place, like how she also offered to share her diet with you? You don’t need to be on a diet, for the record.”
“Thanks. As for the diet advice and the flirting with men, that’s what she’s like in a nutshell,” I said.
“How do you put up with it?”
“It helps that she lives a few hundred miles away. And I’m pretty happy with my life. I don’t want every guy I meet to lust after me. I just want one great guy to love me, and for me to love him in turn.”
“And that right there is why you’re happier. You’ve got a good attitude about it. I admire that about you.”
“Suck-up,” I teased. “Honestly, though, I may be sorting paper clips and cleaning the bathroom with a children’s toothbrush to keep out of her crossfire.”
“And what was with all the selfies? ‘My nose looks weird.’ ‘Your face looks fat.’ Really?”
I shrugged. “She’s always been very image conscious.”
“Does she always try so hard to mark her territory like she did with Tom? Do you think she’d try that with Ethan?”
“You’re not really worried that he’d be interested in her, are you?” I asked.
“No. I feel Ethan and I are pretty solid, but I still wouldn’t want to see her grinding up against him. She may try that on Roger, too. You guys are off to a good start, but your relationship is newer. It might rankle your nerves to see her hitting on him.”
“Might? It would rankle me.” I sighed. “My gut tells me Roger would not be impressed by her overt gestures,” I said. “But I wouldn’t want to see it either.”
Vanessa’s face brightened as a thought crossed her mind. “If she keeps it up, though, Fiona will put a curse on her.”
“She’s been having me bring over a bunch of desserts in the hopes that Plenty will pack on a few pounds during her visit.”
“Ah, the ‘a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips’ curse. I like how your mom thinks,” Vanessa said. “I still hope she doesn’t slobber over every guy she meets, at least not when I’m near.”
An idea came to me. I couldn’t stop the grin from overtaking my face.
“What are you thinking?” Vanessa asked. “I see a cunning plan forming.”
“I think I may know of a way to distract her,” I started, pulling out my cell phone and hoping I would be in luck.
14
TOM VISITED MY shop twice that afternoon, foraging for treats, and taking long breaks at my fortune-telling table.
“You’re visiting us a lot today,” Vanessa teased.
“Plenty,” he groused. “She never stops talking. I don’t know if she just likes to talk or if she’s talking because silence means she’ll have to face the emptiness inside her head.”
Vanessa and I chuckled.
Tom warmed to his tirade. “She keeps going on about what she bought and about guys she met. And every guy who meets her is crazy about her. Every. Single. Guy. Then she pulls out some makeup and a mirror and puts more crap on her face.” He mimed putting on mascara and applying lipstick for our benefit. “Then she keeps taking photos with her phone. I swear she took a hundred pictures of herself after the last time she put on more makeup.”
“You’re welcome to stay here as long or as often as you like,” I said.
“Consider me part of the store. You wouldn’t happen to have any cookies around, would you?”
To make things easier on my mother – and himself, to some extent – Tom suggested going out to dinner. The restaurant in the Ojibway Hotel was one of the nicest in town, with its second-story bar and restaurant overlooking the Soo Locks and park, so we agreed that was where we’d dine.
Roger was meeting us there, and Vanessa brought along Ethan, too. We’d planned in advance to try and seat ourselves away from Plenty.
“No matter what,” I told Vanessa off to the side, while we stood in the lobby waiting for everyone else, “she will try and suck all the oxygen out of the room.”
Jordan arrived at that moment. “That’s what your mother told me about her yesterday,” he said. He’d opted to walk the few blocks from Thingamajigs. “Tom and Fiona said they’d be leaving in about ten minutes, but Plenty was redoing her hair and makeup and seemed undecided about an outfit, so I think it’ll be more like a half hour – or longer.”
“That’s fine by me,” I said. “Toby’s tending bar tonight. Let’s go get a cocktail and numb ourselves a bit.”
Jordan’s shoulders sagged.
“What’s wrong?” Vanessa and I asked in unison.
“I’m not old enough to drink,” he replied.
“Maybe you can … um … steal a sip of whatever we’re having when our heads are turned,” Vanessa suggested.
“That sounds like very un-Vanessa-like behavior,” I teased.
“Have you met your cousin Plenty?” she replied.
“Touché. He’ll need a drink.”
We made our way over to the bar. Toby greeted us and poured glasses of Riesling for Vanessa and me, and served Jordan a ginger ale. When Toby was attending to some customers across from us, we let Jordan sample our wine.
“I predict you’ll like this,” I said, “unless you hate sweets.”
He took a sip and agreed. “It is good. But it’s not super sugary.”
“Compared to a lot of other wines, it is,” Vanessa said. “There are even sweeter varieti
es available.”
I hailed Toby over and ordered a later harvest Riesling. He brought a glass over and I sampled it before handing the glass to Jordan to sip.
He nodded his approval. “I like this one much better.”
Vanessa took a long sip, savoring the wine. She hailed Toby over and ordered one for herself. He asked if he should take the first glasses away.
“Leave it,” she said.
“That’s a lot of wine for the two of us,” I said. “It’ll be so hard to keep track of it all, or finish it.”
“I don’t know anything about wine,” Jordan said, daring to take another taste. “But I like this.”
“Probably when you saw people drinking from your high school they drank cheap beer or whatever hard stuff they could scrounge up and mixed it with pop: Mountain Dew, Faygo, whatever, right?”
He nodded.
“You’ve been exposed to getting drunk for the sake of getting drunk. We’ve all been down that road before,” Vanessa said.
“It is nicer to sit with friends and drink this,” Jordan said, taking another swig.
A minute later Roger and Ethan made their way into the bar. I craned my head, pleased to see a third guest in tow.
“Is that Wyatt?” Vanessa asked, frowning as she looked in the direction of the approaching men.
I nodded.
She gave me a curious look, then recognition dawned. “Oh, a distraction. Very nice.”
“A distraction for who? And who is Wyatt?” Jordan asked as he watched the men approach. “Wow. I didn’t know there were this many hot guys in town.” Catching himself mid-admiration, he blushed.
I patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Wyatt is Roger’s younger brother. And as for the distraction, I’m hoping Plenty and Wyatt will want to spend some time together in the next few days.”
“Well, he’s cute. She’ll probably like him. Um, I didn’t mean any of them were hot. They’re just … dressed really nice. That’s what I meant,” he muttered.
“That’s fine. When you’re ready to share with the class, we’re ready to hear about it, and we’re not going to judge you either,” I said. Vanessa smiled and nodded in agreement. Jordan relaxed at the statement, taking another sip of wine to calm his nerves.
Plenty of Trouble Page 9