“Well …” she looked doubtful for a moment, and then speared up a huge forkful of egg. “It is really good. I shouldn’t, though.”
“If you want I’ll stand next to you to make you look thinner,” I teased.
“Okay. That sounds good. What? Why are you giving me that look?”
“You could say, ‘Poppy, you’re not that big.’”
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed. Eat up or I’ll pin you down and force feed you maple syrup and lard.”
She laughed for a moment and then grew quiet as she finished her breakfast. Then, “Do you think Wyatt and I hit it off? I think last night went well.”
“He seemed to like you,” I agreed.
“Do you know if he dates a lot?”
“I’ve heard he’s a bit of a ladies’ man.”
“Has he been serious with anyone?”
“I really don’t know.”
“But you’re seeing his brother. Don’t you know?”
“Honestly, I don’t. I’ve only been seeing Roger for a short while. I haven’t even formally met his parents, though his mom has come into my shop a couple times.”
“Do you think I’m his type?”
“When he first saw you last night, he said you were hot. Does that make you happy?”
She smiled. “He said I was hot?” She straightened, preening under the compliment. “I guess I am better looking than just about anyone else in this sad little town. What else did he say?”
“What? Do you want me to say you were atomic or volcanic or something? Just finish your breakfast already.”
16
AFTER BREAKFAST PLENTY followed me to the Wheeler abode. I wanted to make sure I got her out of my house, since I knew that if she were left to her own devices she’d make herself at home and make a mess of everything in record time. I had no real problem with clutter, but I preferred my own brand of chaos, and not what someone else could inflict on me.
I arrived a bit before I had to open my shop and went inside to see how Tom and Mom were faring and to say hello to Aunt Lindy.
“There you are!” my mother called out when she saw us enter their kitchen.
“Who? Me?” I asked.
“No, we weren’t worried about you,” Tom said, looking up at me from his game of solitaire. “But Plenty wasn’t here this morning –and she didn’t respond to the texts we sent today – so we were a bit concerned.”
Aunt Lindy looked us over, her eyes unusually pale in the morning light. “Plenty. You’re wearing the same clothing you had on last night before you said you were turning in.”
“I visited Poppy last night and ended up staying over,” Plenty explained.
Aunt Lindy’s eyes darted in my direction as if seeking confirmation. I gave a small, tight nod.
“Where’s Jordan?” I asked.
“He already ate breakfast, so he’s taking the dogs for a walk,” Mom said.
Plenty went to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee before sitting down. A box on the kitchen table caught her eye, and she pulled it to her and began sifting through its contents.
“What is all this,” she asked, turning to my mom.
“The other day someone brought a box of things they no longer wanted,” she explained. “They exchanged the lot for store credit. I was going to go through everything this morning and put prices on it.”
Plenty pulled out a compact. It was round and golden, with a blue and black inlay in the middle and a mother-of-pearl swan in the center. She snapped it open and peered inside.
“It’s empty,” she said.
“It’s one of those refillable ones,” Mom explained. “I think it’s from the fifties, or maybe the early sixties.”
“It’s pretty,” Plenty said. She gazed into the small mirror, mesmerized. “How much is it worth?”
My mother shrugged. “I could maybe get thirty dollars for it.”
Plenty smiled. “You know, it was my birthday last month.”
“Oh, she’s subtle. As subtle as you are, Fi,” Tom snorted.
My mother paused for a moment. “You can have it. I sent you a card, but no gift, so this will make up for it.”
Plenty’s grin grew wider and she bobbed up to give my mother a hug. She turned as she was about to head up the stairs. “Do you have any paper I could write on,” she asked. “Preferably some nice stationery?”
“Since when do you write letters?” Aunt Lindy scoffed.
“I have something in mind,” Plenty replied in a prim voice.
“Poppy,” my mother said. “Go to the desk in the spare bedroom. There’s some paper in one of the drawers.”
I did as told, and Plenty dashed up the steps with her compact and paper.
Aunt Lindy stood and stretched. “I guess I’ll go and get ready, too. Maybe I can slip into the shower before she does.” She followed her blonde daughter upstairs.
Once she was out of sight, I turned to look at Mom. “You gave that compact up easily.”
Tom nodded, shifting his blue eyes from his card game over to my mother. “I noticed that, too.”
“What?” she replied. “I’ll easily be able to get a couple hundred bucks from the contents of that box. That’s minus the compact.”
“How much store credit did you give the person who brought in that box?” Tom asked.
“I offered fifty dollars cash or a hundred dollars store credit.”
“Ah, there’s my girl,” Tom said, tucking a newspaper under his arm and making his way to the bathroom. “Time to hit the library.”
I chuckled and shook my head as I bid them goodbye and made my way across the lot to open my shop.
17
I WAS ROPED into going to the casino that night. My mother and Tom liked to go there every week or two, while I preferred to go there just once or twice a year.
Since it’s shiny and bright and always buzzing with activity, it would serve as fine amusement.
I broke from the crowd a bit and roamed with my Aunt Lindy for a spell. She wasn’t much into card games or the roulette wheel, so we opted to feed the slot machines.
After a while we grew tired of that and perched on a couple of bar stools, playing some video poker as we caught up.
“So how is life treating you,” I asked. “Still with the same accounting firm?”
She nodded. “I hope to make it to retirement in a few years. You know how companies like to make cuts.”
I nodded. “I hope you get what you want.”
“Thank you. I hope so, too.” She looked me over. “How are you getting on with Plenty? Did you two have fun when she stayed the night at your place?”
“We chatted a bit. It was nice to talk one-on-one away from the crowd.” That was mostly true, I thought to myself.
She gave me a doubtful look.
“What?”
“I know Plenty can be a handful sometimes and that now and then you find her to be annoying. I think you turned out more like me, at least in temperament and coloring, though you have a bit of your mother’s sass.” She smiled. “Just a bit, though.”
“Was Mom more mellow when she was younger?”
Aunt Lindy fixed her big eyes toward the ceiling for a moment as she shook her head. “Oh no. She is a lot more mellow now. A lot calmer.”
“I can hardly imagine what she was like at my age. Or that she’s mellowed.”
“In some ways she was like Plenty. Not a carbon copy in looks or manners, though Fiona and Plenty do favor each other in some ways. Plenty got her grandfather’s height, but your mother always had more confidence in herself. Plenty gets too worked up about her shell and not so much her interior. I’ve never been sure why Plenty turned out that way. I know I’m vain in my ways, and daughters do take after their mothers, but she’s in a league of her own.”
“Maybe she just gets it from the same place my mother does,” I said.
“Perhaps,” Aunt Lindy agreed. “But I think your mother had to be that way, t
oo, because she didn’t get on with our stepdad. He didn’t believe in us – and probably barely liked us – and our mother didn’t stand up for us much, either, so Fiona fought for herself. Well, first she just fought. Then she fought for herself.”
“Sounds like you’ve given this some thought,” I said before taking a sip from my beer.
“I worry about Plenty. She hasn’t quite seemed to find herself. She seems to think if she’s blonde enough, thin enough, tan enough and made up enough, and wearing enough high-end clothing, that it’ll all gel for her.”
“But it hasn’t.”
“No, it really hasn’t.”
“Do you ever want to give her a good kick in the butt sometimes?” I asked. “You know, when she gets too focused on the materialistic side of things?”
“More often than I care to admit. But she’s my daughter, and even when she drives me crazy, I’ll still look out for her. Just like you and your mother. You two may have your battles – usually small ones, like she’ll want you to dye your hair blonde – but you two will stand for one another when it counts.”
“I’m sort of surprised you’re telling me this, Aunt Lindy. I mean, I know my mother gets a bit competitive with you, and in turn she kind of sees me and Plenty as rivals.”
“That’s your mother’s way. That’s Plenty’s way, too. I do want to compete maybe a tiny bit. That’s human nature. But not on the level Fiona and my little girl like to. Plus, you’re not one to get so into all the petty dramas. You’re more live and let live.”
“Do you think Plenty sees me as competition,” I asked.
Aunt Lindy nodded. “Sure. You’re the grownup cousin with her life together. You have work you love, and friends – and a very handsome man you’re seeing, with those piercing blue eyes – and you are happy here. I don’t know how you can stand the winters, though. They’re bad enough in Detroit. But I think Plenty wishes she had a bit of what you have in her life.”
“I guess that makes sense. I used to be more jealous of her being so tall and blonde. She’d wear a short skirt and guys would drool. She was such a pretty teen, and I felt like an ugly duckling until I got into college.”
Aunt Lindy smiled. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“It’s true, too. When you’re a teen you focus on that stuff more, and I’d see guys’ jaws dropping when they’d spot her at the beach or the mall, and usually I was invisible.”
“You know you’re beautiful, too, don’t you?” Aunt Lindy asked.
“I guess. I never quite see myself as a hot babe, but I think I do all right.”
“Oh, you do more than all right, Poppy. Come on, let’s toast.” She held up her glass of wine and I clinked my beer glass with hers. As we both took sips, we heard a loud exclamation.
“There you two are!”
We turned in unison and there was Plenty. She raced over to us.
“Guess what! I won!”
“Congratulations!” I said. “How much, and at what?”
Plenty ignored my question, whipping out her phone and snapping some selfies, mostly of me and her, but also one of her and her mother. She quickly reviewed the photos and deleted several.
“Is my face too fat, again?” I asked.
She looked at me. “In one your face looked chubby – ”
“Plenty … ” Aunt Lindy began.
“In another I looked like I had dark circles under my eyes, so it’s gone, poof!” She smiled at us.
“So,” I continued, “what did you win?”
“Oh, yes, that. I played the roulette wheel and won a thousand dollars!”
“That’s wonderful, dear,” Aunt Lindy said. “You’ll get a lot of use out of that.”
Plenty nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to buy a pair of Louboutins, with the highest heels I can find. I’ve always wanted to strut around with that bit of red flashing when I walk.”
“I was thinking you could use that to pay down your credit card debt,” Aunt Lindy said. “That would make a nice dent in it.”
Plenty turned to me. “See what I deal with? I win big and my mom tells me to pay my bills.”
“Well, that’s kind of a mom thing to do, and it’s not the worst suggestion ever,” I replied, shooting Aunt Lindy what I hoped was a sympathetic look.
“What would you do, Poppy, if you won?” Plenty asked.
I shrugged. “My credit card bill isn’t too bad. I try to pay it off each month, or within three months. I’d probably splurge a little bit on something – maybe a new winter coat – and put most of it in savings.”
“Oh, you’re no fun. It’s like you’re going from thirty right into boring old age.” Plenty began pacing the floor. “We should do something crazy and wild.”
“This is wild enough for me,” Aunt Lindy murmured into her wine glass.
“Ditto for me.”
“Seriously, Poppy. I expect my mom to act old, but you?”
“I partied in college and for a few years beyond. Trust me, when you turn thirty you don’t rebound from the crazy stuff as fast as you do at twenty, or even twenty-five.”
“You just need to work your party muscles. When you keep active socially, you get used to it. It’s like working out. The more you do it, the more you can handle.”
“I guess I’m just a couch potato of the social variety,” I replied.
My mother and Tom showed up a few minutes later, and Plenty showed them her winnings.
“Congratulations,” my mother smiled. “What about you two?”
“I lost ten dollars,” Aunt Lindy said.
“I won something like two dollars,” I said.
My mother smirked. “Well, that’s better than losing.”
Tom started to say something, but my mother quickly planted a kiss on his lips.
I gave her a questioning look and she offered a curt head shake. Plenty in the meantime went over to the bar to order a drink. She was smiling and batting her lashes at a tall Native American bartender. He nodded and smiled politely, if not a little disinterestedly, as he poured her a glass of wine.
“He’s not bad looking,” my mother said.
“Definitely not,” Aunt Lindy agreed, her eyes lingering in his direction. “Look at his skin. It’s so smooth and the color of caramel.”
I snickered. My Aunt Lindy never really eyeballed too many men, so I enjoyed seeing that side of her. “Maybe you should bat your big blue eyes at him,” I teased.
The bartender – his name tag said Ted – made his way to us. “How are you ladies faring? Can I get you anything? Lady with the big blue eyes?” Aunt Lindy nodded her head and smiled. He then turned to me. “How about you, Red?”
I held up my glass. “I’ll take another, Ted. Thanks.”
He nodded. Plenty made her way over to us, trying to appear neutral.
“What’s up, hon,” Aunt Lindy asked.
“Oh, he was cute, but I think he’s gay.”
“I think he likes Poppy,” my mother said. “He winked at her.”
“No, I think he’s gay. I was flirting with him, and he showed no interest,” Plenty pressed.
“I think he likes pale girls with red hair who don’t run their mouths off at a mile a minute,” Mom pressed.
“Okay, let’s not get pissy, ladies,” Tom cut in. “Come on, my cactus flower, I know you have some change left. Maybe you want to feed the one-armed bandit a bit before we go.”
She began to follow him. I rose as I accepted a beer from the bartender and tossed a dollar in the tip jar. “I’ll follow you, Mom. I’ve got a few quarters left. I’ll maybe plop a few into any machines you feed and see if you’ve warmed them up for me.”
“Ha, ha,” my mother said. “If you do, I’m taking half your winnings.”
“And if you win, I’m taking half yours just because you said that.”
I waved good-bye to Aunt Lindy and Plenty. “We’ll meet you at the entrance in an hour, okay?”
When I was sure we were out of earshot, I ask
ed Mom: “How much did you win?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Come on. You gave me a look, and you distracted Tom when he was about to say something. I’d say it was your lucky day.”
“It was. I made a side bet at a Pai Gow table and won five grand.”
“Wow. That’s a nice little jackpot there. Have I told you lately that I love you, Mom?”
“Very amusing. They’re having open mic nights here once a month. Maybe you should try your hand at some standup.”
“Maybe I will. I’m sure I can get a good routine going about my wild and crazy mother.”
“And when you make it big, you can share half your fortune with me.”
“I’ll keep that under consideration. So why didn’t you want to mention it in front of Plenty or Aunt Lindy?”
“On the one hand, I’d like to rub the winnings in Aunt Lindy’s face, but then Plenty would find out.”
“And?” I pressed.
“Plenty’s been talking about how she’d like a nice infusion of cash to pay for starting her own business.”
“Huh. When she told us about her winnings she kept talking about how she wanted to buy expensive shoes.”
“How expensive are we talking about?” Tom cut in. “Eighty dollars? She could buy a lot of shoes with a thousand dollars.”
“She was talking about buying a pair of Louboutins.”
“What’s that?” Tom asked.
“They’re these expensive high-heeled shoes with red soles,” my mother explained.
“So? Plenty said she wanted to buy a pair of shoes with the winnings. How pricey are these things?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ve seen them marked around seven hundred dollars,” I said.
“What? Why would anyone pay that?”
“It’s some status thing, I think,” I said. “Fashion types like them, I guess.”
“Would you pay seven hundred dollars for a pair of heels,” Tom pressed.
I shook my head. “My rent is less than that. Plus, I hate to wear heels.”
“Good girl,” Tom said.
“I admit that’s a lot of money for shoes, but heels aren’t all bad,” my mother sniffed. “They’re sexy.”
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