I glanced around at the odd collection of things-a beautiful oil lamp, a tacky ceramic of a fisherman, an elegant silver brush set, a purple teapot shaped like an elephant's head-his trunk was the spout. Next to my father's simple painting was a very large canvas: Several robust women with 1920 hairstyles bathed at a pink spring while odd-looking winged creatures darted about.
"Her taste was certainly… wide-ranging," I said.
"Her records are even more erratic than her taste," he replied with a grimace. "Of course, Mother was no spring chicken when she had me, and I think she was losing it mentally these last few years. I'm going to be forced to declare bankruptcy."
"Oh, no."
"But I want to hear about you and your mother, Katie. Is she here with you? How long will you be in Wisteria?"
"Well, actually-" A loud jingle of the bells on the door interrupted us. "Shop's closed," Joseph called out, then turned back to me. "You were saying-" "It can't be closed." A guy about my age had rushed into the store. "I got here as soon as I could." He looked at me as if I might plead his case for him.
"I've got to get a birthday present."
"Shop's closed," Joseph repeated.
"But I know what I want. It's right over there." He strode toward a glass case. "The bracelet with the blue stones."
"The lapis lazuli?" Joseph asked quietly. "It's three hundred dollars."
I think Joseph assumed the high price would immediately get rid of the shopper, but he miscalculated.
The guy cocked his head, as if he hadn't heard right, then bent over the case to get a closer look. "You've got to be kidding. It's not even sapphires."
"And this isn't Wal-Mart."
The guy straightened up. "Okay, okay," he said, rubbing his hands, then glancing at his watch.
I got the feeling he had a very short deadline.
"Let's see." He ran one hand through curly black hair. He was athletically built, a few inches taller than I, and very good-looking-if he would just stand still for a second. The room didn't seem big enough to contain his energy. I wanted to send him outside for a run.
"There must be something else here." He moved down the long jewelry case, playing it like a piano.
Joseph sighed. "Please don't put your fingerprints all over the glass."
"There, that plain silver one. You put tags on your cheaper stuff. Fifty dollars, I can swing it. Wait a minute, I like that one too. Forty-five."
He spun around, turning to Joseph, then me. I was glad there wasn't a shelf of glassware anywhere near him. "You're a woman-sort of," he said.
I frowned at him.
"I mean, a girl. A female. Could you help me out? I hate choosing this kind of stuff."
He had great eyes, eyes like the shiny black stones I collected from my favorite beach on the Channel. That's the only explanation I can offer for helping this last-minute lover in his gift selection.
"Which bracelet do you like best?" he asked. "That silver one, or the gold one with the green paint."
"Green enamel," Joseph corrected him.
I leaned over the case, studying them. "The green and gold."
"But all of her earrings are silver," the guy protested.
"Then why did you ask me?" I replied, exasperated.
He lifted his hands, then dropped them heavily on the glass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joseph wince. The guy had strong hands, square hands, totally un artistic hands. Was it crazy to be attracted to a guy's hands?
I like the enamel one too," he admitted. "But since she likes silver, I was hoping you'd choose that and make it an easy choice."
"Both bracelets are pretty. It's just that I like to wear green."
His fingers stopped drumming the case, his hands finally becoming still. I looked up and found him gazing at my hair. He met my eyes, then perused my face-just stared at me, making no effort to pretend he wasn't.
"I see," he said. "Because of your eyes. Your eyes are grass green."
Grass green?
"What I mean is pale, bright green-" Joseph shook his head.
"See-through green, like-like the plastic of a Sprite bottle."
He seemed pleased with the accuracy of that last description. I hoped he wasn't going to compose his own gift card.
"I'll take the silver bracelet," the guy said, turning to Joseph, pulling out his money. "I'm kind of in a hurry."
Joseph must have realized that a sale was the quickest way to get rid of this guy. Moving behind the counter, he took the customer's money. The guy pocketed the bracelet, leaving without a box or bag.
"You were saying," Joseph prompted me, as the bells on the door jingled and fell silent.
"I'll be here for a while. I took a temporary job."
"Wonderful. Where?"
"Mason's Choice."
He looked at me surprised.
"Do you remember Mrs. Hopewell?" I asked.
"Despite my best efforts to forget her."
"She's still there."
Joseph sat down heavily on a shop stool. "Why did you go back, Katie?"
The tone of his voice made me uneasy. "Why not?"