that moment, a pink Cadillac convertible rounded the corner and beeped. The thing was a boat, circa 1960, complete with fins. My, my. Damn, someone was primed for shopping and . . .
“Tally!” hollered the woman in the driver’s seat.
The woman wore a pink scarf wrapped tight around her head and neck, a la Kim Novak in
Vertigo
. Except, this woman I knew and . . .
Penny began barking like crazy, full of excitement and joy. Who the hell? “
Carmen?
What are you doing here?”
The Cadillac halted in a screech and billows of dust.
“Geesh, Carm,” I said. “I’m trying to be secretive here!”
My best friend’s face fell. “Crap. Sorry. Belle told me you were on the Island, going to Delphine’s shop, so I came looking for you.”
I looked back at the shop. The girl on the phone had disappeared, presumably inside. Ah, well. So much for stealth.
“This is obviously
not
a coincidence, dear friend,” I said. “What are you up to?”
“Me? Nothing. Coincidences
can
happen. I was vacationing here. Down from Maine.”
“Where’s the family?” I snagged Carmen’s arm as she moved forward. “And what’s with the pink car and scarf?”
She gave me one of her goofy looks, a la Lucy. “The restaurant’s been doing, um, not so hot. We needed something else. Bob, well, he’s, let’s just say it’s up to me. I’m not entirely here to vacation. Nope, I’m also here as Ms. Organic Mary Kay.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s a new company called Organic Pink. Same getup as Mary Kay, but organic. I even brought the car over on the ferry. Pretty neat. Get it now, duh?”
It sounded like a recipe for a lawsuit to me, and Bob . . . I was disturbed to hear there was a problem. And as for coincidences . . .
But that was for later. “You look great, hon.” Carmen, at six-foot-plus, would be astonishing in a MK pink outfit, yet the scarf and car, oddly enough, worked. I hugged her. “You’re fabulous, Carm. Always.”
She laughed. “Yup suh. Sure am, and don’t I know it.”
“C’mon,” I said to Carmen. Penny leapt into the Caddy’s backseat, and I hopped in front. “Why don’t you come with me to visit the shop?”
“Love to.” She put the boat of a car in gear. “Afterward, I’ll give you a lift back to Dan and Belle’s. Lots to tell.”
“Knowing you, Carm, I can only imagine.” I gave the humongous pink convertible Cadillac another look. “I’ve really never seen a car like this in the flesh.”
She winked. Cripes.
The bell jingled as we entered the shop. I poked my head in. “Zoe?”
No answer.
Persian rugs, old wide-board pine floors, exposed beams—Delphine’s shop was a feast for the eyes. Penny’s nails went
clack-clack
on the wood floor as we turned left, into a modern room filled with American Indian art from contemporary artists. It drove me crazy not to look at all Delphine’s new pieces, but I needed to find Zoe. The shop took up the entire first floor of the classic Greek Revival home, and one room led into another to form a perfect square. We walked through the front, contemporary room, through an arch and into the second room, one at the back of the house. It was filled with Delphine’s collection of American Indian and Southwestern sculpture. I wondered what Didi would have thought of the place. I smiled. Unless there were bones, I doubted she would have found it very interesting.
“This stuff is gorgeous,” Carmen said.
“Yeah, it sure is.” This shop was where I first had seen the wonderful sculptures by Roxanne Swentzell and Allan Houser and Nila Wendall.
Carmen walked to a bronze of a full-figured woman, reclining, her hand raised, a sweet smile on her face. Carmen smiled back, and she caressed the sculpture’s hand with her own large, capable one.
“Don’t touch that sculpture!” barked a voice.
We both turned. Penny let out a low growl.
The girl in the violet jumper and long white-blond braids stood in the doorway, her eyes frightened, cell phone
“Tally!” hollered the woman in the driver’s seat.
The woman wore a pink scarf wrapped tight around her head and neck, a la Kim Novak in
Vertigo
. Except, this woman I knew and . . .
Penny began barking like crazy, full of excitement and joy. Who the hell? “
Carmen?
What are you doing here?”
The Cadillac halted in a screech and billows of dust.
“Geesh, Carm,” I said. “I’m trying to be secretive here!”
My best friend’s face fell. “Crap. Sorry. Belle told me you were on the Island, going to Delphine’s shop, so I came looking for you.”
I looked back at the shop. The girl on the phone had disappeared, presumably inside. Ah, well. So much for stealth.
“This is obviously
not
a coincidence, dear friend,” I said. “What are you up to?”
“Me? Nothing. Coincidences
can
happen. I was vacationing here. Down from Maine.”
“Where’s the family?” I snagged Carmen’s arm as she moved forward. “And what’s with the pink car and scarf?”
She gave me one of her goofy looks, a la Lucy. “The restaurant’s been doing, um, not so hot. We needed something else. Bob, well, he’s, let’s just say it’s up to me. I’m not entirely here to vacation. Nope, I’m also here as Ms. Organic Mary Kay.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s a new company called Organic Pink. Same getup as Mary Kay, but organic. I even brought the car over on the ferry. Pretty neat. Get it now, duh?”
It sounded like a recipe for a lawsuit to me, and Bob . . . I was disturbed to hear there was a problem. And as for coincidences . . .
But that was for later. “You look great, hon.” Carmen, at six-foot-plus, would be astonishing in a MK pink outfit, yet the scarf and car, oddly enough, worked. I hugged her. “You’re fabulous, Carm. Always.”
She laughed. “Yup suh. Sure am, and don’t I know it.”
“C’mon,” I said to Carmen. Penny leapt into the Caddy’s backseat, and I hopped in front. “Why don’t you come with me to visit the shop?”
“Love to.” She put the boat of a car in gear. “Afterward, I’ll give you a lift back to Dan and Belle’s. Lots to tell.”
“Knowing you, Carm, I can only imagine.” I gave the humongous pink convertible Cadillac another look. “I’ve really never seen a car like this in the flesh.”
She winked. Cripes.
The bell jingled as we entered the shop. I poked my head in. “Zoe?”
No answer.
Persian rugs, old wide-board pine floors, exposed beams—Delphine’s shop was a feast for the eyes. Penny’s nails went
clack-clack
on the wood floor as we turned left, into a modern room filled with American Indian art from contemporary artists. It drove me crazy not to look at all Delphine’s new pieces, but I needed to find Zoe. The shop took up the entire first floor of the classic Greek Revival home, and one room led into another to form a perfect square. We walked through the front, contemporary room, through an arch and into the second room, one at the back of the house. It was filled with Delphine’s collection of American Indian and Southwestern sculpture. I wondered what Didi would have thought of the place. I smiled. Unless there were bones, I doubted she would have found it very interesting.
“This stuff is gorgeous,” Carmen said.
“Yeah, it sure is.” This shop was where I first had seen the wonderful sculptures by Roxanne Swentzell and Allan Houser and Nila Wendall.
Carmen walked to a bronze of a full-figured woman, reclining, her hand raised, a sweet smile on her face. Carmen smiled back, and she caressed the sculpture’s hand with her own large, capable one.
“Don’t touch that sculpture!” barked a voice.
We both turned. Penny let out a low growl.
The girl in the violet jumper and long white-blond braids stood in the doorway, her eyes frightened, cell phone
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