A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [132]
“Gordon!” Jilly Cross called from his porch.
“Hello,” he said, grinning. Seeing the folder under her arms, he assumed she wanted to tell him about some new properties. Maybe it was her way of putting things back to where they’d been. Her hair was different. Lighter, shorter, almost ragged looking. She was smiling, though her eyes were wary as she came toward him. She seemed younger, more delicate, than he remembered.
“I didn’t think you were home.”
“I was just at my neighbor’s, but she’s not home yet. I had to give her her money back. Her change from the groceries. But see, they’re still out there.” He pointed to the bags, then held up his hands. “I forgot I had these on,” he said with a weak laugh as he tugged off the soiled gloves. “I was doing some work out here. Yardwork.”
“I need to talk to you,” she said so grimly that he knew what it was about.
“Oh. Well, would you like to go in? I’ve got some Diet Pepsi.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you know? Or do you even care? Dennis and I were business associates, and then the next thing I know his wife’s on the phone screaming at me to stay away from her and her family. I told her what you did, that scene in the post office, how you were yelling at me in front of everyone and saying such horrible things. Oh, God,” she groaned, blotting her eyes with a balled tissue. “It’s all such a mess.”
“I didn’t yell at you.” His mind raced in an assemblage of facts. They had been outside, in front of the post office. He had never raised his voice. No one had been around.
“You might as well have. Attacking me in front of all those people.”
“I wasn’t attacking you. I wasn’t! I was just worried about my brother and his family, and maybe it wasn’t my place to, but it was bothering me, and then I saw you and I said what I said, because I thought it was wrong, I mean, you and my brother . . .” His words trailed off. Her face twisted up in anger.
“No! That’s not why,” she said with a sharp poke at his arm. He stepped back. “And you know it as well as I do. It was this whole weird thing you had about you and me. As if I’d ever be interested in someone like you. That’s what bothered you. That’s when you turned on me! That’s when you started!” This vicious jab knocked the gloves from his hand. Her folder fell, scattering papers down the walk.
He backed onto the steps. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he got the door open and stepped inside. Stunned, he watched through the window as she drove off.
Delores had enjoyed her first few days at the store. Small and cozy, The Dearborn Lady was decorated in pale pinks and greens, the ceiling soft blue with fluffy white clouds. That it look more like a lady’s boudoir than a dress shop had been Jean Coppersmith’s intent when she’d started the business thirty-one years ago. She knew most customers by their first names and kept careful lists of their birthdays, well aware that hers might be the only cards some of her older ladies would receive. Every inch of wall space had been given over to racks. With so little floor space, Delores was constantly bumping into things. Coming out of the storage room now, she had just dislodged a rounder of silk blouses. She could feel Jean’s eyes on her