Snuffed Out - Tim Myers [53]
“You can take your lunch now,” I said, trying to ignore the state of agitation she was in.
“I brought mine with me. I’ll just eat it in back.” There was a new firm resolve in her voice and the sullenness was gone. If having it out with Pearly was what it took to make my life more tranquil, then I felt sorry for my handyman, but he’d brought it all on himself.
I just wanted a little harmony at the candleshop, and maybe I was about to get it.
That particular theory proved to be true. Eve was back to her old self again, never all that cordial before, but certainly never that snappy either.
It was as close to civility as she’d managed in a long time, and I almost felt myself blushing from her ambivalence.
I was in such a good mood that I sent Eve home half an hour before we were set to close, and to my amazement, she took me up on my offer.
A man came in three minutes before closing. He was dressed in a three-piece suit and wore a faded rose in the buttonhole, as if he’d attended a wedding a few days before and had forgotten to remove the spent flower.
“May I help you with something?” I asked.
“No, just browsing.”
“I’m closing soon,” I said.
“Fine. I won’t be long.”
He took his time, stopping at every display, picking up a few things, checking prices, then putting them down again. I felt like giving him a countdown as every thirty seconds passed, but I resisted the temptation, as hard as it was to ignore. Last-second shoppers always drove me crazy, and I was working on my patience, without sterling results.
The second-hand of the clock crawled as if through Jell-O before it finally reached closing time. “Sorry, but we’re closing.”
“Don’t mind me,” he said.
Now what could that mean? Was I going to have to throw him out physically? No one had ever failed to take the hint before, but this man was clearly not getting it.
I had a few things to take care of, and I could do them in plain sight, so I decided to let him browse. At seven minutes past, I’d done everything but close out the register.
I joined him near the back of the store near two huge, gaudy candles that Belle must have made. They were frankly not my Great Aunt’s best work, and I’d been meaning to move them back into storage where I might finally quit tripping over them. I wasn’t sure where the mold had come from for them, but Belle hadn’t left them alone at that. The candles had been gilded and painted and decorated until I doubted there was a technique she hadn’t tried on them.
“Interesting,” the man said. “Are they for sale individually, or are they a matched set?”
I was ready to give them away just so I wouldn’t have to
dust them anymore, but I’d been in business long enough to hear the avarice in the man’s voice. “Oh, I couldn’t think of letting one go without the other.”
“How much would they be, then?”
That was a question I wasn’t prepared to answer. As I wondered how much I should ask, he said, “Oh, here’s the price right here.”
Even with all the times I’d looked at the ugly twins, I’d missed the price tag hidden among the finery of flowing ribbons and dripping shells.
I gulped when I saw the price and was ready to discount them on the spot when he said, “I’ll take them.”
“That will be fine,” I managed to say as I took his credit card.
As I rang the sale up, he stroked one and said, “Rather hideous, aren’t they?” Realizing his words could offend, he quickly amended, “To me, at any rate. Beauty in the eye of the beholder and all that, eh?”
“They aren’t my favorites of what we sell,” I admitted. “But I’m curious, if you don’t like them, why are you buying them?”
He studied me a second, then said, “My ex-wife is getting remarried in three days, and she had the nerve to invite me to the festivities.” He took a breath, then said, “In fact, she asked me to give her away!”
“And you agreed?” I asked, honestly curious.
“I am, sir, a gentleman above all else. It was a request I couldn’t refuse, in good conscience, but it’s been troubling me ever since.