Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I took the dress from the rack and held it up to her. The stretchy fabric would work perfectly over her back.
“Definitely your color. Matches your eyes,” I told her.
“All right then,” she replied. She looked through the other items before stopping at a skirt with tropical flowers covering it. “This my size?” she asked.
I took the skirt and showed it to her. “Sure is, and I know just the top to go with it,” I replied, going to pull out the sleeveless yellow knit top that I’d hung up yesterday. I turned to show her the two put together.
“That’s real pretty,” she said, studying the outfit.
“I think so too,” I agreed, draping it over the arm that held the dress. “What about shoes?” I asked, not sure if she preferred to wear slippers or not. The sole of one looked to be coming off.
“I know my size in those. It’s an eight,” she told me.
I wished I’d had the shoe racks done, but I did have the shoes in size order even if they were still in piles on the floor. Going over to the women’s, I found the eights and scanned them before picking up a pair of tan leather sandals that slid on, a pair of Birkenstocks, and a pair of navy-blue lace-up tennis shoes before turning to show them to her.
“Which style do you prefer?” I asked her.
She reached out and touched the Birkenstocks. “These look comfortable,” she said. “But they might not do well in the rain.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Remembering a pair that I’d cleaned up yesterday, I turned back around and put the tan sandals and tennis shoes back, holding on to the Birkenstocks, and grabbed yellow rainboots. Standing back up, I showed her both pairs. “Why don’t you take both? You can wear the boots when the weather is bad.”
She lifted her eyes to mine. “I can get both?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
Come at me, Mena. I will take you down.
The small smile that pulled at her weathered cheeks made my chest feel warm. My eyes stung, and I blinked the emotion away fast. There was no way I was gonna cry and ruin this for the woman. The last thing she wanted was me tearing up. She’d think it was pity and not realize that it wasn’t that at all.
“Well then, do you want me to bag this up for you?” I asked, glad the reusable tote bags I’d ordered had come in yesterday.
She nodded her head. “I reckon so.”
I wished we had panties and bras to offer her, but I hadn’t gotten to that yet. Next time. She would be back.
I went to get a bag from behind the counter, ignoring Mena’s eyes following my every move, then put the hangers in the empty laundry basket I had placed back there. I folded each piece carefully before putting them in the tote.
Handing it to her, I smiled. “I hope you enjoy your things.”
“Darlene,” she said.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Darlene,” I replied.
She nodded once and glanced around at Mena, then Jude, who had remained quiet while I helped her.
“Have a blessed day,” Mena told her.
“This is a nice place, Father,” she said. “I might’n come to church now I got somethin’ to wear. ’Specially if the one talking’s got a face like yers.”
Jude laughed. “My face is there to see Monday through Friday at seven a.m., Saturdays at five p.m., and Sundays at eight, ten thirty, and five. And the Lord doesn’t care what your clothes look like. He just wants you to come.”
She nodded, then turned and walked out the door with her bag tightly grasped in her arthritic hand.
Thirteen
Jude
Taking the plate of tacos, chips,burritos, rice, and black beans, which Sibby had wrapped up for me after the group meeting on Saturday night, over to Saylor served two purposes. One, I’d get to find out why she hadn’t come to the meeting. Two, I’d get to see her.
At least I’m admitting it, Lord. I wasn’t lying to myself.
She was never far from my thoughts. And yesterday, watching her with the lady who had come in for some clothes had not helped.
She had flashed those dimples, treated that woman as if she were a customer in a store, and acted like a saleslady, helping her shop. I had stood there, watching it, unable to look away. Even with Sister Mena right there, seeing me do it. I couldn’t help it. That had been beautiful.
When she hadn’t shown up tonight, I’d had a hard time staying focused. I had told myself all day that I’d get to see her at the meeting. Hear her talk. Watch her smile. Hopefully find a reason to sit by her so I could smell her and torture myself some more. The disappointment had caused the evening to feel long and Sibby’s behavior to annoy me further.