Looking for Me (23 page)

T
he following morning I was so glad to be back at work that I burst through the door two hours before opening time. After turning on the radio, I grabbed the caddy of cleaning supplies and walked to the front of the shop. When I saw the bright red Sold tag hanging from the door of the Louis XV armoire, I said out loud, “Thank you, Inez!”

While polishing the top of an antique backgammon board, I glanced out the window. Across the street a man was pushing a dolly along the sidewalk. Stacked on the dolly were two cardboard boxes, on top of which was an old blue typewriter.

I thought of the Smith-Corona that Mama had bought me for graduation, how devastated I was, how angry and ungrateful when I pulled off the wrapping paper. Now, all these years later, I saw things differently. Mama was trying to give me security. The Smith-Corona had been her symbolic gift of freedom, her own version of Daddy’s red, white, and blue.

I watched the man push the dolly around the side of a building and whispered,
“I’m so sorry, Mama. I didn’t see what you were trying to do . . .”

The back door swung open, and I heard Albert come in. I left the cleaning supplies where they were and headed for the workshop. He looked up while tying his apron, “Hey, Teddi. How’d it go up in Kentucky?”

As if propelled by an unseen force, I raced forward and threw my arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re in my life, Albert. Do you realize we’ve worked together for almost twenty years?” When I loosened my grip and stepped back, the stunned look on his face made me laugh.

“What you boilin’ over about? You keep actin’ crazy and we ain’t gonna work together for another twenty minutes.”

I wiped tears from my eyes and sniffed. “I’m just so happy—happy I have this shop, happy that you’re here. Inez, too.”

Albert shook his head. “Cry when you’re mad, cry when you’re happy, cry when you’re blue. My mama used to cry when she ironed. Lord, all them tears rollin’ with the steam. It was a sorry sight. Long as I live, I’ll never understand you women.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t understand us either.” I walked to my workbench and pulled tissues from a drawer. While drying my eyes, I noticed an old drop cloth draped over a piece of furniture. “What’s that, Albert?”

“Don’t know.”

“What do you mean, ‘Don’t know’?”

He paid no mind to my questioning eyes and began lining up his tools for the day’s work.

Stepping to the shrouded piece of furniture, I folded back the drop cloth. When I saw what lay beneath, how gorgeous and transformed it was, I whipped around and gasped. “Albert James Pickens!”

He tried to stop his lips from edging toward a smile, but I saw it just the same. “Now, don’t start bawlin’ again. I got work to do.”

I knelt in front of the old chest and ran my fingers over the marquetry repairs. It was hard to believe this was the same beat-up chest I’d bought at the yard sale. “Whatever I owe you, it’s not enough. Albert, you’re amazing. How did you do this so fast?”

He flipped a dining chair upside down on his workbench and began unscrewing the seat. “Two words: Reba’s sister. She came up from Alabama and plans to stay for a whole month. That woman flaps her jaws mornin’ till night, starts talkin’ even before I’ve had my breakfast. Nothin’ left for me to do but come to work. Even came in over the weekend just so I could have some peace.”

“I’m sorry you had to get away from home, but this chest sure reaped the benefits. These repairs are incredible.”

Albert removed the chair seat and set it aside. “Don’t look too close. That old chest been through a whole lot. It ain’t never gonna be perfect.”

I ran my fingers over the front of a drawer and whispered, “Neither am I, Albert. Neither am I.”

Remembering the cleaning supplies I’d left by the front window, I went to finish what I’d started. As I was wiping down a brass coach lantern, I turned to see Inez walking around a tall chest of drawers.

“Hi, I see you sold the armoire.”

“A nice couple from Boston bought it. The freight company will pick it up next Tuesday.”

“Inez, you’re the best.”

She looked at me with the oddest expression. “Well, you won’t think so after I tell you what happened on Saturday. After I sold the armoire, a woman came in and bought the silver tea service you’ve had since last summer.”

“Inez! I didn’t even notice. That’s wonderful.”

“Yes and no. While I was in the back wrapping it up, the doorbell started ringing like crazy. So I hurried and got the tea service into a box. When I walked out front, the shop was filled with people. You’d have thought there was a sign in the window that said we were giving things away. It was a madhouse. Everyone started asking questions and buying all at once. I sold the marble candlesticks, the pine pastry table, and that celadon jardinière you loved so much. Anyway, after everyone left, I walked around straightening things up and wiping fingerprints off the glass cases. That’s when I noticed the telescope was gone. And whoever snatched it didn’t even bother to take its storage case. I swear I don’t know how it happened. I’m sorry, Teddi.”

I turned and looked at the chest where the telescope had been. “It’s not your fault, Inez. I shouldn’t have placed it so close to the front door. Don’t worry,” I said, patting her arm.

“Well, I feel terrible about it. You pay me good money to watch the shop when you’re gone. It’s no consolation, but I got up early this morning and made a chocolate cream pie. It’s in the kitchen.”

The day flew by as one customer after another walked in. By four o’clock I’d sold a matching pair of porcelain vases and so many pieces of sterling flatware that I nearly ran out of tissue paper. It had been a fun, haggle-free day, and though I was sill annoyed that someone had stolen the telescope, the sales had outnumbered the loss by over tenfold. At closing time I peeked into the workroom. “You ready, Albert?”

We grunted and strained and cussed beneath our breaths. It was a miracle that Albert and I managed to haul the walnut chest up the stairs of my carriage house without hurting ourselves in the process. I smiled and waved good-bye as he drove off in his truck. He’d have a nice surprise in his next paycheck. Both he and Inez were getting bonuses.

Eddie was worked up from all the commotion, his rump wiggling as he followed me into my bedroom and watched me accessorize the chest. On the left I placed the antique pewter teapot I’d wired and made into a lamp, then a framed photograph of my family, followed by a glass vase filled with early-blooming hydrangeas.

While I obsessed over the accessories, moving each item a half inch here, a little turn there, Olivia phoned. “Hey, Teddi. What are you doing?”

“Admiring the chest I bought at the yard sale. You should see what Albert did. It’s unbelievable.”

“Well, how about I see it tonight? I made a big salad and a loaf of sourdough bread. Want some company for dinner?”

“I’d love it. The door’s unlocked. You can let yourself in.”

I had just finished changing clothes when Olivia’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. She walked into the kitchen with a giant bowl in her arms, on top of which was a warm loaf of bread.

“Everything smells great. Let’s eat out in the garden.”

While I gathered plates, silverware, and napkins and put them on a tray, Olivia went down the hall to see the walnut chest. “Sweet mother of holy restoration!” she yelled from my bedroom. “Albert’s a magician.”

“Isn’t he?” I called out.

Olivia returned to the kitchen. “No one would ever know that chest used to be covered in cigarette burns. The finish is gorgeous.”

“It must have taken him days just to repair the damaged drawers,” I said, pouring two glasses of sweet tea.

We descended the stairs and went out to the garden. I set the table while Olivia served the salad. “So,” she said, draping a napkin over her lap, “I have a couple things to tell you. First, I drove by a house today that just went up for sale. It’s in the French Quarter. I don’t know what it’s like inside, but if the exterior is any indication, it has your name all over it.”

I sliced a piece of bread from the loaf and rested it on the corner of my plate. “Well, God knows I’ve wanted my own home for a long time. But it’s strange, now that I have the money, I feel odd about spending it.”

Olivia furrowed her brow. “Why? My gosh, you can finally buy a house and renovate to your heart’s content.”

“It’s not all my money, you know. Half of it belongs to Josh.”

Olivia looked away and stabbed her fork into a piece of romaine.

“That bothers you?”

She propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Teddi, I know you dearly loved your brother. Even though I never met him, after hearing about him for all these years I love him, too. But sometimes when you talk about Josh, it’s like a part of your life stopped when he disappeared. Have you ever considered talking to . . . you know, someone like a grief therapist? I just worry that you’re setting yourself up for—”

“Please stop,” I said, covering my ears with both hands.

When I was certain that Olivia wasn’t going to say another word, I lowered my hands. “I don’t want to go on a psychological safari with a shrink. I know you think Josh is gone in the most literal sense. Everybody does. Not knowing what happened to my brother is the most awful thing I’ve ever been through. I
still
go through it, Olivia. Every day when I open the mailbox, I wonder if I’ll find a letter. Every time the phone rings, I pray it’s news about Josh, and then I’m scared to death that it is.”

“That’s why I—”

“Let me finish. Of
course
a part of my life stopped when he disappeared. I practically raised him. As much as it would shred me to pieces, in some ways it would be easier to know that he’s passed on. Then I wouldn’t be so torn up by the endless worry.”

I looked into Olivia’s eyes and pointed to my temple. “Up here, every bit of logic tells me he’s dead. But in here,” I said, lowering my hand and tapping my chest, “I have the feeling he’s alive.”

While Olivia chewed her lip, I waited for her to launch into a lecture on head versus heart. Lord knows I’d heard them all. From Mama to Ranger Jim and even Grammy, everyone tried to pull the last string of hope from my fingers—everyone but Daddy. For up until he died, my father would stand at the kitchen window at dusk, his gaze set on the woods as he silently drank his last cup of coffee for the night.

Olivia flopped back in the chair and raised her hands in surrender. “Mea culpa. Sometimes I think I have all the answers, but I don’t. I’m sorry, Teddi. I was just so excited about you finally being able to buy a house.”

“Buying a house isn’t a problem. But I need to feel good about it, you know?”

She nodded, dropped the subject, and dug into her salad.

The white flag had been waved.

Olivia and I had one of those rare kinds of friendships. We could disagree and sometimes even argue. Yet after we’d both had our say, we inevitably called a truce and moved on.

“All right,” she said. “So here’s the other thing I wanted to tell you.” She arched one eyebrow and paused for dramatic effect. “I have a date. And get this—he has a literary IQ larger than his shoe size!”

“Whoa. Give me the scoop.”

“His name is Martin Armstead. He’s a stockbroker from Atlanta. He bought the Churchill first edition. Outbid everyone else, sight unseen. He drove up to get the book yesterday. And guess what else. You’ll die.”

“What?”

“He ended up buying the Jules Verne.”

“The one you’ve been hoping to sell for years?”

“Yes! He bought
Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.
Granted, he negotiated like a pro and wore me down on the price, but at least he bought it. And here’s the best part: He knows almost as much about rare books as I do. We sat in my library and talked for over an hour. He’s insanely intelligent, kept using words I’d never heard of.”

I personally didn’t find that to be an admirable quality, but I kept that thought to myself. Besides, when it came to men, I wasn’t exactly an expert. I tried to sound interested when I asked, “What words?”

“When we talked about our families, he said he had a brother but that he was a lazy
scapegrace.
” Olivia laughed. “Isn’t that a great word? So after Martin left, I looked it up—it means a reckless scoundrel.”