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Authors: Anjali Banerjee
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this be a customer?” Lily says, her eyes lighting up. “There, you see? My display is already working.”
Horror of horrors, Ida shuffles in, without George this time, but I catch a disgusting whiff of Fifi.
“So this is where the white kitty lives!” Ida exclaims. “I saw him in the window.”
“Actually, she’s a girl,” Lily says. “She just showed up. Is she yours?”
“I wish she was. She’s beautiful. I can’t believe I never stopped in here.”
“I just opened,” Lily says, hurrying after Ida, who is browsing now, touching this and that.
“You’re a little off the beaten path.” Ida looks across the street at the comings and goings in the other shop. Then she smiles at Lily. “But now that I’m here, I’ll look around.”
“Please do.”
Please don’t.
“I’m in a buying state of mind. What can you show me?”
I’m going to have to stay hidden, as Ida might be here for a while.
Chapter Thirteen
Lily
Lily looked around at her messy shop, bewildered. This doughy woman hadn’t been drawn by the window display. She’d come to see the cat. Some deep need emanated from her, a desire that had long lain dormant. If she were to walk into The Newest Thing, what would happen? Chris would look up and nod at her, then return to her smartphone. Or maybe she wouldn’t look up at all. Ida would browse in complete anonymity. But here in Past Perfect, Lily could step in to help. She could make a difference. But how?
“I’ve got some lovely dresses,” she said. Her voice came out rusty. She cleared her throat. “If you’re looking for a dress, that is. Are you?” Oh, she sounded ridiculous. If only she could erase her words and start again.
The doughy woman tapped her chin with a chubby forefinger, in which a gold ring was deeply embedded. “Maybe a dress. I was supposed to come here for something. The kitty called to me, not in words, but you know…” She glanced down at her jeans, the shapeless kind with an elastic waist; and at her sensible, rubber-soled shoes. She wore an oversized, baggy polyester shirt beneath her sagging jacket. It was as if she were looking at someone else, some body that she could not recognize as hers.
What would Josh have done? What could Lily do? She could make a personal connection, so she reached out and shook the woman’s cool, soft hand. “I’m Lily. Maybe if you tell me more about what you’re looking for, I can help you.”
“I’m Ida,” the woman said, withdrawing her hand, “and I’m looking for, oh, I don’t know. Something pretty and unique.”
The cat tiptoed over and rubbed against Lily’s legs, and in that instant, she heard the words that Ida didn’t say.
I’m looking for happiness. I’m looking to stop time. I’m looking not to get anyolder or fatter than I already am. I’m looking for my husband to look at me the way he used to. I’m looking for the impossible.
Across the street, The Newest Thing’s window scene had grown more elaborate, with snow and ski poles and a sprinkling of flakes on the mannequin’s coat. A new neon sign winked on above the door. Ida glanced across the street, her eyes bright. “Maybe I should just…” she began.
“Just?” Lily followed Ida’s gaze. A young woman came out of The Newest Thing carrying a large shopping bag. She glanced across the street at the mannequins in Lily’s window, looked right and left, then crossed the street at an angle toward the Island Creamery.
Lily looked over at the cat, who sat in an elongated, rectangular sun spot near a shelf of silk scarves. If the cat had been visible in the window, would the girl have braved coming over? Maybe Lily should’ve bought a cottage closer to the curb, without a garden to traverse between the sidewalk and the porch. It was almost as if some invisible barrier prevented people from coming up to the door—unless, possibly, they saw the cat.
But the cat wasn’t going to stay. The shop would have to speak for itself. Lily
Horror of horrors, Ida shuffles in, without George this time, but I catch a disgusting whiff of Fifi.
“So this is where the white kitty lives!” Ida exclaims. “I saw him in the window.”
“Actually, she’s a girl,” Lily says. “She just showed up. Is she yours?”
“I wish she was. She’s beautiful. I can’t believe I never stopped in here.”
“I just opened,” Lily says, hurrying after Ida, who is browsing now, touching this and that.
“You’re a little off the beaten path.” Ida looks across the street at the comings and goings in the other shop. Then she smiles at Lily. “But now that I’m here, I’ll look around.”
“Please do.”
Please don’t.
“I’m in a buying state of mind. What can you show me?”
I’m going to have to stay hidden, as Ida might be here for a while.
Chapter Thirteen
Lily
Lily looked around at her messy shop, bewildered. This doughy woman hadn’t been drawn by the window display. She’d come to see the cat. Some deep need emanated from her, a desire that had long lain dormant. If she were to walk into The Newest Thing, what would happen? Chris would look up and nod at her, then return to her smartphone. Or maybe she wouldn’t look up at all. Ida would browse in complete anonymity. But here in Past Perfect, Lily could step in to help. She could make a difference. But how?
“I’ve got some lovely dresses,” she said. Her voice came out rusty. She cleared her throat. “If you’re looking for a dress, that is. Are you?” Oh, she sounded ridiculous. If only she could erase her words and start again.
The doughy woman tapped her chin with a chubby forefinger, in which a gold ring was deeply embedded. “Maybe a dress. I was supposed to come here for something. The kitty called to me, not in words, but you know…” She glanced down at her jeans, the shapeless kind with an elastic waist; and at her sensible, rubber-soled shoes. She wore an oversized, baggy polyester shirt beneath her sagging jacket. It was as if she were looking at someone else, some body that she could not recognize as hers.
What would Josh have done? What could Lily do? She could make a personal connection, so she reached out and shook the woman’s cool, soft hand. “I’m Lily. Maybe if you tell me more about what you’re looking for, I can help you.”
“I’m Ida,” the woman said, withdrawing her hand, “and I’m looking for, oh, I don’t know. Something pretty and unique.”
The cat tiptoed over and rubbed against Lily’s legs, and in that instant, she heard the words that Ida didn’t say.
I’m looking for happiness. I’m looking to stop time. I’m looking not to get anyolder or fatter than I already am. I’m looking for my husband to look at me the way he used to. I’m looking for the impossible.
Across the street, The Newest Thing’s window scene had grown more elaborate, with snow and ski poles and a sprinkling of flakes on the mannequin’s coat. A new neon sign winked on above the door. Ida glanced across the street, her eyes bright. “Maybe I should just…” she began.
“Just?” Lily followed Ida’s gaze. A young woman came out of The Newest Thing carrying a large shopping bag. She glanced across the street at the mannequins in Lily’s window, looked right and left, then crossed the street at an angle toward the Island Creamery.
Lily looked over at the cat, who sat in an elongated, rectangular sun spot near a shelf of silk scarves. If the cat had been visible in the window, would the girl have braved coming over? Maybe Lily should’ve bought a cottage closer to the curb, without a garden to traverse between the sidewalk and the porch. It was almost as if some invisible barrier prevented people from coming up to the door—unless, possibly, they saw the cat.
But the cat wasn’t going to stay. The shop would have to speak for itself. Lily
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