Day By Day. Delia Parr

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СКАЧАТЬ Kitchen was halfway down the row, and the foot traffic, even on a day as hot as this one, was light. Judy was so preoccupied with happier memories she nearly walked past the shop. Once inside, she paused for a moment to cool down in the air-conditioning and looked around. The shop was smaller than it appeared from the outside, perhaps no larger than fifteen by twenty feet, and the shine on the wooden floor was almost dazzling. Floor-to-ceiling shelves boasted dozens and dozens of rare china canister sets that were breathtaking, both in beauty and price. Protective velvet chains, like the ones used in movie theaters and museums, kept patrons at a safe distance. No problem there for Judy. If she saved her wages for a month of Sundays, she would never be able to afford a single item in this shop, and she held tight to the box from McAllister’s and her purse for fear of knocking something over.

      Several small antique glass-and-oak display cabinets placed about the center of the room protected more canister sets for potential buyers to inspect at close range. Candles on top of the cabinets added the scent of summer roses to the air. There were no customers currently in the shop but Judy could hear voices coming from a back room, presumably Barbara’s office.

      Uncertain how to proceed and anxious about the time, she was grateful for a sign that directed her to buzz for assistance. Within moments, Barbara emerged from the back room, and Judy saw for herself how deeply the woman had been affected by her son’s tragic murder.

      Although still stylish, dressed in a pale pink linen suit and heels, Barbara had obviously been too grief-stricken by her son’s murder or too busy trying to raise her twin granddaughters to pay much attention to her hair, badly in need of a good trim and a touch-up. Sorrow had etched new lines across her forehead and down her cheeks, but it was the haunting look in her gaze as she drew close that nearly moved Judy to tears.

      Poor Barbara. To lose a child so suddenly and so violently must be a heavy cross to bear. At least Judy could still pray for Candy’s recovery, but Barbara had no hope of ever seeing her beloved son again. Maybe she and Barbara could become friends, helping one another deal with their private pain as they each struggled to revert from their roles as grandmothers to become mothers again, despite the obvious differences in their backgrounds and circumstances. Perhaps grief, for a son lost forever and for a daughter lost to drugs, would be the bond that was strong enough to help them both.

      When Judy stepped forward, eager to make a new friend, she tripped on the hem of her slacks. With her purse in one hand and the box of bakery goods in the other, she bumped into one of the glass display cases. Fortunately, the case was heavy enough to hold fast and keep her from falling, but her nudge had toppled the contents.

      With her heart pounding over the sound of the china rattling in the display case, she closed her eyes, grateful to have kept her balance. Thoroughly embarrassed by her awkward entrance, she prayed nothing more than her pride had been cracked or broken.

      Chapter Three

      B arbara took one step out of her office and froze. Helpless to prevent the inevitable, she watched near disaster unfold in motion slow enough that it appeared to defy time.

      Cringing, she instinctively squeezed her eyes shut. When all was quiet, she opened them and saw that Judy was still on her feet, though her face was flushed as she drew in deep gulps of air.

      “Merciful heavens, are you all right?” Barbara managed as she rushed forward.

      “I’m okay,” Judy insisted, looked over her shoulder at the display case and sighed. “Thankfully, I think your china is okay, too. I can’t believe I was so clumsy. I knew I should have hemmed these pants. I’m so, so sorry for bumping into the display case. I can’t even begin to imagine how long it would take me to repay you if I’ve broken anything.”

      “Nonsense,” Barbara countered. “I have insurance to cover everything. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

      Madge rushed up to join them. “Barbara? Judy? Are you two all right? I thought I heard—”

      “I’m fine. Just totally and completely mortified. I tripped and bumped into the display case,” Judy responded. Holding tight to her purse and the box of baked goods, she turned and scanned the display case again. Smiling, she shook her head. “It doesn’t look like anything is broken. Maybe my day is taking a turn for the better after all. I was afraid this was going to be the grand finale to a day that went from bad to awful by noon!”

      “Mine, too,” Barbara admitted. “I’m afraid having a bad day is become the norm. I’ve been more than a little preoccupied lately. Between reopening the shop, caring for the girls, and my Steve…” Her throat tightened. She choked back the grief still so heavy on her heart and wondered if she could ever function normally again or spend the rest of her days trying to exist with a broken heart.

      Madge put an arm around Barbara and Judy. “You both have enough on your plates to warrant a lot of bad days. That’s why I wanted to get the two of you together…so you could help each other.”

      Judy sighed and shook her head. “Some help I brought with me today. I can’t believe I was so clumsy.” She turned and looked down at the display case again. “I’d rather have broken something on myself. Bones heal. But antiques can’t be replaced. I don’t think any of the china is broken…but what if it’s cracked?”

      “Barbara said that would be covered by insurance,” Madge insisted. “Now listen. This may not have been the best introduction, but working together to make sure there’s been no damage at all might be just the ticket.”

      “The display case is pretty solid and the velvet lining should have cushioned the pieces that tipped over,” Barbara suggested.

      Madge left them for a moment to turn the sign on the window from Open to Closed. “The last thing we need right now is a customer,” she explained.

      “That’s true,” Barbara murmured. After walking around the display case, her initial hopes about the lack of damage were substantially reinforced, although she needed to carefully inspect each piece for hairline cracks that would ultimately affect their value.

      The flush on Judy’s cheeks, however, remained. “Are any of the pieces cracked?” she asked.

      Barbara caught her breath for a moment. Telling Judy the display case housed one of the most expensive or the most fragile set in her collection, which primarily contained imports from Germany and Czechoslovakia, would only add to the woman’s obvious distress. These white china canisters, decorated with multicolored wild flowers, dated back to the early 1800s. The largest canisters for flour, sugar, barley, rice, coffee and tea were intact, as were the smaller ones for spices ranging from cinnamon to mustard, and a pair of tall matching cruets for vinegar and oil, although most of the pieces had tipped over. “There’s no visible damage,” Barbara murmured.

      Three months ago, she would have been frantic even to think the set might have been damaged, but losing Steve had taught her many lessons, not the least of which was the importance of life over mere possessions. The smile she offered to the other two women now was genuine. “If there’s any damage at all, it would be very minor. I still have to carefully check each of the pieces for cracks or chips, but I have to put the canister sets under the light on the work counter in back to know for sure.”

      Judy’s smile was tenuous. “Minor?”

      Madge grinned. “That’s what Barbara said. Minor.”

      The distant sound of a tinny melody signaling a call on a cell phone immediately deepened СКАЧАТЬ