rather lovely around sunset—although the sun sets around five o’clock this time of year.”
The door opened, and Cat stood in the entranceway with her cheeks pinkened by the return of a chilly January wind, her green eyes sparkling against her wool coat, which was nearly the same shade. Maggie saw instead her own brown hair and her pale gray eyes, which weren’t dark enough to be called blue, and she felt the familiar disappointment squeezing her heart. She turned away to straighten the cigarette boxes and to avoid watching Peter’s face as he noticed Cat.
Cat spotted Peter right away and her smile broadened. Slowly closing the door behind her, she leaned against it, her posture jutting out her chest. “Well, hello. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced.”
Maggie wanted to blurt out that they had looked for her on the pier the previous evening so she could introduce them then, but couldn’t find her, and that she’d lain awake until three o’clock waiting until she heard Cat’s footsteps on the bare wood of the risers as she climbed the steps to her bedroom. But then Maggie would have to tell her that she had worried about her, and that would have been a lie. Because all Maggie could think about as she’d lain awake was how alive she’d felt for the first time in a long while, and how warm Peter’s hand on her waist had felt as they’d danced. And how maybe Lulu had been right about her bottle tree, and that bad news was finally finished with them.
Keeping her eyes on Cat, Maggie made the introduction. “Cat, this is Peter Nowak, a businessman from Iowa. Peter, this is my cousin, Catherine Brier, otherwise known as Cat.”
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Brier,” he said.
Maggie forced her gaze back to Peter when she noticed that he hadn’t moved to take Cat’s hand. He was simply smiling as if he met beautiful women every day and had somehow become immune to them. His hands remained clasped behind his back as he bowed his head slightly.
“And now, if you ladies will excuse me, I have business to attend to. Margaret, I’ll see you at seven?”
Maggie nodded and watched Cat as she waited until the last moment to move away from the door, brushing herself against Peter’s arm. He pretended not to notice as he turned the doorknob and opened the door. Facing them once more, he slid on his hat, winked at Lulu, and said good-bye again before closing the door softly behind him.
Maggie’s feeling of satisfaction faded quickly as she caught the look on Cat’s face, her expression like that of an osprey sighting its prey. The three of them turned toward the window to watch Peter striding away to a car parked on the street. And when Maggie turned back from the window, she saw Lulu carefully tying the crème lace ribbon from Belgium in her hair.
AS SOON AS MAGGIE LET her leave, Lulu ran home as fast as she could. Martha, the housekeeper, was there mopping the kitchen floor when Lulu rushed in the back door, tracking footsteps on the damp linoleum floor.
Seeing Martha’s arms on her hips, Lulu did an abrupt about-face to toss her shoes onto the back steps before racing past Martha again with a hurriedly shouted “Good afternoon.”
Lulu ran up the stairs, her sock-clad feet slipping on the risers; then she raced into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She quickly opened it, yelled downstairs, “Sorry, Martha,” then closed the door more gently.
After leaning against the door to find her breath, she hurried to the window to draw the drapes, then moved to the opposite wall before kneeling in front of the chifforobe. Even though she’d given up her room to Cat, her clothes had remained in the chifforobe because Cat had claimed the downstairs hallway closet as her own.
From the bottom drawer, on the right-hand side underneath her petticoats and nightgowns, Lulu pulled out the small jewelry box that had once been her mother’s. It was made of dark, shiny wood
The door opened, and Cat stood in the entranceway with her cheeks pinkened by the return of a chilly January wind, her green eyes sparkling against her wool coat, which was nearly the same shade. Maggie saw instead her own brown hair and her pale gray eyes, which weren’t dark enough to be called blue, and she felt the familiar disappointment squeezing her heart. She turned away to straighten the cigarette boxes and to avoid watching Peter’s face as he noticed Cat.
Cat spotted Peter right away and her smile broadened. Slowly closing the door behind her, she leaned against it, her posture jutting out her chest. “Well, hello. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced.”
Maggie wanted to blurt out that they had looked for her on the pier the previous evening so she could introduce them then, but couldn’t find her, and that she’d lain awake until three o’clock waiting until she heard Cat’s footsteps on the bare wood of the risers as she climbed the steps to her bedroom. But then Maggie would have to tell her that she had worried about her, and that would have been a lie. Because all Maggie could think about as she’d lain awake was how alive she’d felt for the first time in a long while, and how warm Peter’s hand on her waist had felt as they’d danced. And how maybe Lulu had been right about her bottle tree, and that bad news was finally finished with them.
Keeping her eyes on Cat, Maggie made the introduction. “Cat, this is Peter Nowak, a businessman from Iowa. Peter, this is my cousin, Catherine Brier, otherwise known as Cat.”
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Brier,” he said.
Maggie forced her gaze back to Peter when she noticed that he hadn’t moved to take Cat’s hand. He was simply smiling as if he met beautiful women every day and had somehow become immune to them. His hands remained clasped behind his back as he bowed his head slightly.
“And now, if you ladies will excuse me, I have business to attend to. Margaret, I’ll see you at seven?”
Maggie nodded and watched Cat as she waited until the last moment to move away from the door, brushing herself against Peter’s arm. He pretended not to notice as he turned the doorknob and opened the door. Facing them once more, he slid on his hat, winked at Lulu, and said good-bye again before closing the door softly behind him.
Maggie’s feeling of satisfaction faded quickly as she caught the look on Cat’s face, her expression like that of an osprey sighting its prey. The three of them turned toward the window to watch Peter striding away to a car parked on the street. And when Maggie turned back from the window, she saw Lulu carefully tying the crème lace ribbon from Belgium in her hair.
AS SOON AS MAGGIE LET her leave, Lulu ran home as fast as she could. Martha, the housekeeper, was there mopping the kitchen floor when Lulu rushed in the back door, tracking footsteps on the damp linoleum floor.
Seeing Martha’s arms on her hips, Lulu did an abrupt about-face to toss her shoes onto the back steps before racing past Martha again with a hurriedly shouted “Good afternoon.”
Lulu ran up the stairs, her sock-clad feet slipping on the risers; then she raced into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She quickly opened it, yelled downstairs, “Sorry, Martha,” then closed the door more gently.
After leaning against the door to find her breath, she hurried to the window to draw the drapes, then moved to the opposite wall before kneeling in front of the chifforobe. Even though she’d given up her room to Cat, her clothes had remained in the chifforobe because Cat had claimed the downstairs hallway closet as her own.
From the bottom drawer, on the right-hand side underneath her petticoats and nightgowns, Lulu pulled out the small jewelry box that had once been her mother’s. It was made of dark, shiny wood
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