She clapped her hands together. “I’ll get breakfast cooking. Do you have any preferences?”
“Nothing for me this morning.”
“What? Well, we’ll get it on your plate and then, if you still don’t want it, no problem.”
Ben pressed his lips together, but nodded.
She turned the radio on while she broke the eggs and cut up the chives. She was humming along with Jo Dee Messina singing, “I’m alright,” when Ben interrupted.
“You like to cook.”
He had moved closer and was sitting on the stool at the counter.
“I don’t have much practice. I don’t know if I like to cook, but I like to cook in this kitchen. You have a nice kitchen.” She tossed some cheese into the eggs.
He looked at the cabinets, then the ceiling, as if an answer was hanging there. He looked disturbed. Had she been heavy-handed? She took a step back from her insistence he should eat.
“I don’t want to bully you into eating. Are you feeling sick this morning?”
“Not sick, just not hungry, but I’ve changed my mind. Those eggs look good. Maybe a small portion with a slice of toast.”
“Toast coming up. With jam.”
“Toast with strawberry jam.”
“You got it.”
She put the food on the plates and the plates on the table.
Ben gave her a funny look. “Is that a small portion?”
“Eat what you want. Don’t worry about eating it all.” She cut into her omelet. “Ben, there’s something I want to ask you.”
He perked up. “Go ahead.”
“Last night you talked about going out to eat with Luke?”
“Yes. Is it a problem?”
“Where will we go? I hope it’s casual.”
“Casual’s good.”
“Glad to hear it because my wardrobe is limited.”
Ben pointed to the large wooden key hanging on the wall by the side door. It had hooks with keys to the house, car and storage shed. “You have the checkbook to your new account. Take the car anytime you like. Buy new—whatever you want. Don’t all women like to shop?”
She didn’t answer. Shopping wasn’t something she’d done recreationally.
Ben misunderstood her silence. “Was that sexist? I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m not much of a shopper.”
“There are clothing stores on the island and in Morehead City, of course. Take Maia along if you want company. She’ll be happy to go with you. In fact, I’ll program the gallery number into your new phone. My number, too.”
****
Foster family number one was kind, but had children of their own. She never belonged. It wasn’t a bad spot to be in as a child, just awkward. Most everyone assumed she was being adopted but on their street and at school, the other kids in the family—the real children—made sure everyone knew Juli was just a foster kid. When foster dad number one’s job required a move cross-country, the state found Juli a new home.
Foster family two hoped a child would save their marriage. After a few months, Juli was back with the state.
Family number three, an older husband and wife, taught her some valuable lessons such as never turn down a free meal, never miss an opportunity, and everything has a price.
But none of them taught her how to shop for a dinner dress or how to accessorize.
Juli felt as out of place in the fancier dress shops as she would’ve on a college campus. Unless, of course, she was there working the cafeteria serving line.
She called Maia and said she’d bring the borrowed dress back to her.
“Nonsense,” Maia said. “Keep it, but come over anyway and we’ll do lunch.”
When she arrived, Maia was tied up with a customer and other customers were roaming the store. Maia broke away momentarily.
“I’m so sorry. I’m here alone. My co-worker called in sick and Luke is out.”
“Another time, then.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
Juli went to a few women’s clothing stores. The clerks were better dressed than she was. Their smiles barely moved their lips and invariably they pointed her toward the clearance rack. Suited her fine. Everything was pricey and most of it she wouldn’t be caught dead in. Old lady clothes. She settled for a few clearance items so she’d have something dressier to wear, yet could still congratulate herself on getting a good deal.
On the way home, she stopped at a drugstore for toiletries. In the school supplies aisle, an inexpensive sketchbook and drawing pencils caught her eye.
A hobby would be good. After all, she’d been accustomed to working two and three jobs at a time. She even purchased a couple of paperbacks, the kind she liked that took her away to other places. From there, she dropped by the public library and picked up a pamphlet with information about getting a GED. Back in the car, she shoved the pamphlet into one of the books to make it less conspicuous.