“Just wanted to see what’s new,” Cynthia announced cheerfully as she crossed through our open doorway and stepped inside the shop. “You know me.. I don’t want to miss a thing,” she winked knowingly at me, as if her love for fashion and, especially the new fall clothes, was any secret whatsoever. After all, we had long ago discovered it was a passion we shared. We loved to laugh and speculate that if we ever had the chance to shop together, in some exotic location perhaps, we could do some real damage to both of our pocket books. Only problem was… we both were drawn to the same styles and colors and had such fun finding new ways to put pieces together and discover new “looks” in the process. Should we ever really have the chance to shop together, we might end up in some kind of tug-of-war over the same jacket or blouse or sweater.
No wonder then that I hesitated just briefly in showing Cynthia what was “out of the box” that week.
“Be still my heart,” I thought to myself. “She’ll want that new sweater that’s just calling my name.”
You see…. the policy for employees in the boutique where I work part-time is to wait ten days before we can purchase an item with our discount. Customers should always have first dibs on new merchandise. The exception being, of course, that if we want the article badly enough, we pay full price. An exception that I’m well known for implementing. I’ve come to have a great sense of what might sell quickly and what might not… so I, in turn, have made more than one impulse decision to pay full price. I’d pretty much decided that sweater was all but mine when Cynthia walked through the door.
Such a dilemma. “Do I show it to her or don’t I?” my conscience wrestled with itself.
After all, in my mind’s eye, I was already wearing that sweater……
- First Week-end in October!
That remote beach cottage on Whidbey (I read about in a magazine) awaits my arrival.
Sunny skies light up the water on the ferry ride across the Sound.
Fresh afternoon sea winds permeate the air with that saltiness I so love.
Autumn’s color has exploded and invades my line of vision, interfering with the drive to Langley’s shore.
Wearing this ‘stylish’ hand knit sweater, tweed slacks and driving moccasins, I climb the wooden stairs into the island getaway.
Stretched out on the sofa with the voice of Diana Krall in the background, I begin to sink deeper into relaxation.
After throwing some driftwood in the fireplace until the crackling burns softly like her music, he brings me a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and whispers, “What’s your wish tonight, dear heart? Would you prefer bacon and potato Autumn chowder or a bowl of the artichoke pasta you love so much?”
Who’s kidding who? Am I really going to give up that sweater to Cynthia?