Suede to Rest, page 19
“Is that when they divorced?”
“They would have, but Adelaide got pregnant. That boy grew up isolated and alone. I think they sent him off to a private school, then to college on the East Coast. He never grew up like you, like a normal kid. He was wealthy from day one, and had to figure out pretty quickly that some of the friends he made were only interested in him because of his wealth.”
“Poor little rich boy,” I said.
“Poly, we didn’t raise you to pass judgment on other people before getting to know them. From what I’ve heard, Vaughn McMichael turned out to be a good kid. He didn’t have to come back to San Ladrón. He graduated with honors from William and Mary. He landed a respectable job at an investment firm in Richmond, but when his father had a heart attack, he came back here.”
“I don’t want to talk about Vaughn anymore. I want to talk about Aunt Millie and Uncle Marius. What happened?”
My dad stared out the window at a red car that drove past. He took another drink of his coffee then set it down and pushed it away from him. “They almost lost the store in the eighties. Millie went to Vic McMichael. She asked him for help and didn’t tell Marius. Town gossip spread about them after that. About Millie and Vic and about the store going under. Vic made a public offer on the store and that was it. As far as I know, neither of them talked to each other after that. Marius changed the way he did business, cut some of his overhead, and was able to keep the store.”
“You said in the eighties. I was alive when some of this was happening?”
“You played a pretty important role, you know. When you were born in the store, Land of a Thousand Fabrics got a lot of press. A little girl named Polyester born in a forty-year-old fabric store? That story brought a bunch of people to see what Marius and Millie had built, and it was just the kind of thing to bring in a new wave of customers and set business back on its heels.”
“Is that why Uncle Marius called me his guardian angel?”
“Yes.”
“I know you probably don’t want to talk about this part, but I have to ask. What happened the night Aunt Millie was murdered?”
“I don’t think anybody will ever know the truth about that.” My dad stared into his coffee cup again, like it was a crystal ball filled with answers. “Tom Pickers found Marius sitting by Millie’s body. Marius was in shock. He couldn’t process that she was gone. He’d been sitting next to her all night.”
“How do you know this?”
“He came to me, years ago. He said Millie had arranged for him to pick up the cash take from the weekend sale so it wouldn’t be sitting around. He’d gone but never made it into the store. He said he’d seen something that scared him and had hid. The next morning he went back to check on the store and heard Marius crying. He called nine-one-one, but it was too late.”
“Dad, I heard Mr. Pickers suspected Mr. McMichael was involved in the robbery. That’s why he finally came forward and made a statement. People say Vic McMichael hired the robbers and guaranteed that the store would be empty. And the robbers say it was about robbing the store, not about killing anybody. They say they didn’t kill anybody. And the only person who saw anything that night—no matter how weird it sounds—is dead, ten years after that night. You don’t think there’s something off about all of this?”
“I think the robbers were trying to sell a yarn that might lessen their sentence. I think they were after the money and the bracelet and the murder was an accident. I think Tom Pickers had too much to drink, and I think any evidence that says otherwise is probably long gone by now.”
I stared out the window. Across the street a steady flow of people frequented a freestanding newsstand. Cars filled Bonita Avenue, backing up when the light changed. Unlike the quiet of the previous weekend, this morning, people were up and out, headed to jobs, I imagined, the same way I had headed into my job every day since Giovanni hired me five years ago. The longer I stayed in San Ladrón, the more I found out about the backstory of the fabric store and the life my great-aunt and -uncle had created there. I knew I didn’t want to go back to a job that could barely get me out of bed in the morning.
“Dad, Vic McMichael made me a good offer on the store.”
“When?”
“Friday night. The first night I was here. I turned it down. And then Carson showed up with his own offer—well, not his, but he got together a bunch of investors in Los Angeles and convinced them to buy the store so they could lock horns with Mr. McMichael.”
“He did, did he?”
“I turned down his offer, too. He doesn’t understand.”
“So you’ve had two solid offers on the store in the past forty-eight hours.”
“Sixty hours is more like it,” I corrected.
My dad reached his hand across the table and set it on top of mine. “Tell me this. What is it you’re waiting for?”
“A sign, I guess. Something to tell me that it’s okay to leave it all behind in someone else’s hands. Because I don’t want to. Everything I hear about that store, about what it meant to the family and what Uncle Marius and Aunt Millie went through to keep it, it doesn’t seem right to sell it to someone who wants to tear it down.”
“What do you think should be done with it?”
“I think it should reopen for business.”
“Land of a Thousand Fabrics is a thing of the past. The world has changed since the store’s heyday. It won’t ever be the same.”
It was the same thing Mr. McMichael had said. I hadn’t expected my dad to say it, too.
“It doesn’t have to be the same. It doesn’t even have to be called Land of a Thousand Fabrics. But it could be great again. It could be a place for women to shop for fabric to redecorate or for mothers to bring their daughters to pick out patterns for their prom dresses. I have experience with that, Dad, and you know it. I already have an idea for one shop down the street. And I could run classes on the weekend and get sponsors for craft shows and—”
My dad stared down into his coffee. I studied the bald spot on the top of his head for a second, until he looked back up. “Your mother and I were afraid that something like this would happen.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“That store is in your blood. Marius used to say that you were destined to do something that had to do with fabric since you were born in there. You know what he used to sing to you when he rocked you to sleep? ‘Material Girl.’ He wasn’t surprised when you started working for Giovanni. I think he was a little bit proud.”
A commotion outside tore my attention from our conversation. On the sidewalk, a small mob approached us, led by Carlos and Antonio, who ran ahead. Carlos clutched a white shoe box to his chest. Behind them, Maria and Joe walked on either side of my mom, with Maria’s sisters bringing up the tail of their procession.
“We’ll finish talking about this later. Looks like it’s time for a shift change.” I slid out from the booth and opened the door to the boys who raced in to greet me.
“Poly! We found something!” Carlos said and turned around. “Hurry up, Mom! She’s waiting!”
I looked at the box in his arms, noting small holes had been punched through the thin cardboard lid. I suspected what was inside—either one or both of the kittens—but Carlos was so proud of his discovery that I remained silent and let him have his moment.
I backed up and held the door open wide as the crowd filed in. My mom’s face was flushed pink, a striking contrast to her light gray pixie haircut. Her blue eyes sparkled behind her glasses. “John? You’re not going to believe it.” She held her arm out to him and he took her hand and stepped to her side. She nodded to Maria.
“What is it?” Dad asked.
“We found pirate gold!” shouted Antonio, who seemed to have kept quiet long enough. His mother shushed him then took the shoe box from Carlos and held it out to me.
“I think this belongs to you.”
My hands shook as I took the box from her. I didn’t know what to expect when I opened it, but with so many people looking at me, I couldn’t ask to look at it later. I raised one leg and balanced the box on my thigh, then removed the lid.
It wasn’t a kitten.
“Do you see it?” asked Antonio a second time. He reached up and pulled on my sleeve, knocking the box off balance. It tipped, dumping a charm bracelet that glistened as if it had recently been redipped in gold. I leaned closer. Small charms in the shapes of spools, scissors, thimbles, and one tiny sewing machine were attached to the chain links, next to round coins.
“It’s Millie’s bracelet,” my dad said.
“What does this mean?” I asked.
“It means maybe the robbers were telling the truth.”
Twenty-one
Before I could act, the boys dropped to their knees and reached for the bracelet. My mom had tears in her eyes. Clearly, she wasn’t going to be the person to tell me how they’d come to find this.
“Maria?” I asked.
“Joe, make sure those boys get every last one of those charms.” She put her arm around me and led me to the door. “Let’s go outside for a second.”
I followed her to the sidewalk. “First, I’m sorry about what my boys did. Ever since they saw Pirates of the Caribbean, they think anything gold is pirate treasure.”
“They’re boys. They’re supposed to think that,” I said. “How did they find the box? Should I get my dad to hear this?”
“Your mother was there. I’m sure she’ll tell him. We had finished cleaning the gate and opened it up so we could go to work on the door. Carlos heard meowing inside the store and when we weren’t looking, he went up the stairs and opened the apartment door. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“He found two kittens sitting on the other side of the door, and he convinced Antonio that they had to be rescued, so they carried them down to the store without telling us. When you have boys and you don’t hear them for five minutes, you know it means they’re up to no good, so I went looking for them. They were behind the partition in the store. Carlos tried to put the gray kitten into a box on the shelf to hide it because he didn’t want to get in trouble, but the kitten jumped out and knocked the box over. Buttons and ribbon and coins spilled all over the place. The kitten ran to the back, but by that point Carlos thought he’d uncovered hidden treasure.”
“He very well might have.”
“When I found out what happened, I got your mother. She saw the coins on the floor and almost passed out!” Maria, who had started out as a calm mother of two boys who has seen and had to clean up after everything, had grown excited. Her brown eyes widened to match her boys’ and I immediately saw where their sense of adventure came from. “When she told us what they were we knew we had to bring them to you right away. What does it mean?” she finished in a hushed voice.
“I don’t know yet.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Poly. I think you know exactly what this means,” said my dad from the doorway. I pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes and looked at him. “I think it means you got that sign you were looking for.”
Big Joe eased himself behind the counter and poured coffee and hot chocolate for everyone, then disappeared into the back. Within minutes the sweet sugary scent of freshly baked donuts filled the interior of the small shop. The Lopez family mingled with my parents, filling my dad in on the events at the fabric store that morning. Carlos and Antonio were the heroes of the morning, their actions celebrated with crème-filled éclairs. I excused myself and went out front again, needing a moment to process the information.
Adelaide Brooks had told me to focus on the bracelet. She’d said, Find the bracelet and you’ll find the answers. Only, that wasn’t the case. The bracelet had been in the store all the time. What if she wasn’t the sweet lady I had taken her for, but was really after the bracelet herself? What if every piece of information she’d fed me, along with that serving of tea, had been carefully chosen to put me on the trail of something I didn’t even know still existed and keep me from looking too closely at her family?
And how had she really gotten the charm she’d given me the day we spoke? She’d claimed it had come from her ex-husband, and I’d believed her. But how had that charm gotten separated from the others in the store?
As I stood on the sidewalk, staring across the street at the newsstand, I realized someone was staring back at me. Vaughn. I wondered how long he’d been standing there watching me, and if he knew about the vandalism—that is, if he hadn’t been involved in it in the first place. Only, this didn’t feel like something he’d do. Whether or not he wanted me around, whether or not he was working for his father, trying to get me to sell the store so they could resell and make a bundle, I couldn’t imagine that he’d stoop to ketchup vandalism to make his point. It didn’t fit.
Before I could figure out whether or not to acknowledge his presence or turn around and ignore him, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to face my mother. “Your father said you had a good talk.”
“It was a start.”
“Considering what happened today, we’re going to stick around for a bit. Would it be cramping your style if we went back to the apartment?”
“Mom, how exactly would that be cramping my style?” I asked. “Carson left. He’s back in Los Angeles. It’s me and two kittens, and I’ll go out on a limb and say we’d all welcome the company.”
“I wasn’t talking about Carson,” she said. She looked across the street at Vaughn, still sitting alone. His head was half-hidden behind the newspaper. “That’s the McMichael boy, isn’t it? Go ask him to join us.”
“No, Mom, I’m not going to ask him to join us. This isn’t about him, it’s about us. It’s about family.”
“Not all of it,” she said. “And this isn’t about holding a grudge. I raised you better than that.”
“You raised me to have family loyalty. And I do.”
“I raised you to be responsible, too.” She held my cell phone out. “You left this on the counter charging. You missed several calls from Giovanni—he’s your boss, right?”
I took the phone from her and grinded my teeth. How did mothers know how to make a point so well? Did they teach a class on that somewhere?
“I need to return a few phone calls. In private.” I spun away from her and stepped off the sidewalk onto a strip of grass that ran between the donut shop and the dentist next door. It was well past morning, now moving somewhere into the lunch hour. I knew she was right and I owed Giovanni a call, but he could wait.
I gently tapped out the numbers 411. After being connected to the local utility office, I bypassed a series of automated cues designed to direct me to the right office, then ended up on the phone with someone named Shirley. I explained the power situation and gave her my address, then sat silent on my end while she presumably either accessed my account or ignored everything I’d said and left me hanging.
“The fabric store? You live up there?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“That was tempo for the weekend. We haven’t had an account there for years.”
“What do you mean ‘tempo’?” I asked.
“Temporary service. Turned on by a Realtor, Ken Watts, on Friday morning. He said he was showing the property, asked us to turn on the power for two days.”
“Is that normal?” I asked.
“Pretty routine. When you have properties that’ve been vacant for awhile, nobody’s itching to pay the bills, but the Realtors know you can’t show a property in the dark. We have agreements with most of the agencies.”
“So can I get the power turned back on? Can you transfer the account to me?”
“Did you buy the place?”
“I inherited it.”
“Says here it’s under the control of Watts Realtor. Until I get word from them, the power’s going to have to stay off.”
“What if I convince him to turn it back on?”
“That’s between you and him. You probably want to try that first, because once I cut his account off, it’ll take a couple of days to get it back up and running.”
“What about the water?” I asked.
“I can’t help you with that. You’ll have to talk to the water company.”
“Thanks for the information, Shirley.” I hung up the phone and thumbed through recent calls until I found Ken’s phone number. Big Joe watched me from the window with his arms crossed over his chest. I was being antisocial.
“Ken Watts,” he said as an answer.
“Ken, this is Poly. I need a favor. I need you to have the power turned back on at the fabric store until I can have the bills transferred to my name. And the water. Can you get the water turned back on, too?”
“Don’t you need to be getting back to Los Angeles yet?”
“Not now.” I pushed my hair out of my eyes. “I was going to call you this morning, but I got distracted. You know my aunt’s bracelet? The one that’s been missing all these years?”
“The one you insist the robbers melted into a lump of gold?”
“Yes, that one. We found it this morning. It’s been inside all along.”
He whistled. “All this time. I gotta say, I was with you. But that’s good news, right? Now you can get some closure and sell the store with no regrets.”
“This doesn’t mean I’m selling the store.” I kicked the toe of my boot against the damp ground. “Can we forget your potential commission and talk like friends? I need the power and the water back on.”
“This goes beyond my normal duties,” he said.
“Let me put it to you another way: I’ve been wearing the same clothes for most of the weekend and I’m desperately in need of a shower. If you don’t work with me, I’ll be forced to come to your office. Without the benefit of regular grooming habits. That’s going to cost you a lot more than the commission you’ll lose by not selling my store to Mr. McMichael. Is that what you want?”
