Page 19 of Keeping Winter

“You’ll be the envy of the party,” I assure her with a smile.

It’s funny, but in this new life of mine, I find it so much easier to appreciate people for who they are. In my past life, I might have looked at the middle-aged woman and scoffed at her excitement about buying a new dress for her daughter’s baby shower. I wouldn’t have had a second thought about anyone without as much wealth and status as me. But just her enthusiasm for the occasion so easily rubbed off on me—and the fact that she’s excited her daughter is having a baby.

I wonder what my mother would have thought about me getting pregnant at this age. If she and my father were still around, I’m sure I would have been with a man they found suitable for the family and me. I know for sure my father would be appalled at the way my life has ended up. But sometimes, I like to imagine my mother would have been happy for me. She was always so sad and miserable in her own life. Perhaps if she’d had the opportunity to find her own way like me, she might not have killed herself.

Pressing my palm to my belly, I silently reassure my baby girl that she will never have to worry about that kind of thing with me. My mother was sick and in a life that only aggravated her misery. But I refuse to follow in her path. Despite all the struggle and hardship, I’m thankful to have found Gabe and know the kind of love and dedication he’s given me. My father was never like that. Not for any of my family.

“Winter, will you help me tag this new shipment today before you leave?” Mallory calls from the back.

“No problem,” I say, heading in the direction of her voice.

Seated amidst a pile of fresh merchandise scattered across the floor of the back room, Mallory looks as chaotic and haphazard as ever. I don’t know how she can be so disorganized and yet so on top of things.

“This pile is going for $29.99. Those over there are $34.99. And this pile I think should be $60,” she directs, waving vaguely in different directions.

I try to hide my smile as I pick up the container of safety pins and price tags and settle on the floor next to the first pile she pointed to.

“Remember to add the right size label to each one,” she says, a reminder she’s given me each time we’ve tagged new inventory.

I nod as I get to work. There’s something therapeutic about working with the fabrics of each piece of clothing, the methodical motion of slipping the boutique’s tags onto the string before tying that to the safety pin and slipping it onto the clothing label. It’s all so personal and interesting. I have to rip each bag the item of clothing got shipped in before applying the label and then adding it to the rows upon rows of hangers waiting in the back. Then the piece of clothing goes onto a rack so Mallory can choose where the clothing will be displayed in the store.

“Did you see this new blouse that came in?” Mallory asks, showing off a floral shirt against her chest as we work.

“I love the colors,” I say, admiring the shirt from a distance. It’s definitely something I might have bought without a second thought in the past. Even now, I would love to wear it, but I don’t feel the same urge to spend the money on it. I feel like there are other more important things.

As we work, Mallory and I carry on a constant flow of conversation, discussing everything from the fun and interesting customers that have come through Honey Bee’s to the places we would travel if we could go anywhere in the world and what we would want to see. As we’re nearing the bottom of the tagging pile, the front doorbell jingles.

“I’ll get it,” I say, rising. Heading out to the front, I look to see who came in as I say, “Welcome to Honey Bee’s. Let me know if you have a question about anything… Gabe, hi.” I beam as my eyes land on Gabriel’s tall frame in the doorway.

“Hey, you about ready?”

“Is it five?” I ask, bewildered.

Gabe raises an eyebrow. “It’s five fifteen.”

“Oh my gosh! I didn’t realize it was so late. I must have lost track of time.” Dipping behind the counter, I dig inside the cabinet for my purse.

“Having fun?” Gabe asks me with a smile.

I giggle. “Apparently.” Leaning into the back room, I let Mallory know that Gabe is here to get me.

“Have fun car shopping!” she calls as I give her a wave and turn for the door.

“There’s only the one used car lot here in Whitfield, and I think that’s all we’ll have time for today. But if we can’t find anything there, that’s okay. We can check out the other shops in Boston if we don’t find something here. Sound good?” Gabe asks as we walk to his bike.

“That works for me.”

On the short drive to the used car sales lot, I think about how I managed to lose track of time. I’ve never had a job before, but I’ve always heard that it’s a good sign when you’re not looking at the clock, waiting for the end of the day. I definitely feel like that at Mallory’s boutique. She constantly keeps me busy enough that the day flies by. To be honest, I don’t know how she managed to juggle it all before me. Not that I’m exceptional help, but I certainly try to take as much off her plate as I can. And every task I have I actually find engaging. Then again, I always have loved fashion, so that doesn’t surprise me too much.

As we pull into the little used sales lot, I don’t have too much hope for actually finding a car. I’m glad I have Gabriel here with me because he knows what to look for. I’ve only ever driven cars fresh off the dealership lot. And if my car ever had a problem, I would just take it there to get maintained. But Gabe knows how to both assess and fix cars. Lucky for me. He even helped Starla get her car up and running when she first bought the little blue jalopy.

“Welcome,” the car salesman says with an oily smile as we pull up, and I climb off the bike. He waits patiently for us to both remove our helmets and stow them before extending his hand to shake. “How can I help you two today?”

“We’re looking for a reliable car for my fiancée,” Gabriel says, resting his hands on my shoulders to indicate I’m the fiancée.

“Wonderful.” The salesman beams, rubbing his hands together in glee. “We’ve got a great selection of reliable cars. For example, this beauty.” He pats the hood of a white car parked right up front.

Bright-pink paint on the windshield broadcasts it at $8,000 in big numbers.

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