“What’s the matter?” Sarah wandered into the kitchen.
“I’m double booked. I have an appointment to meet someone tonight, and I also promised to help Betty again.”
“You look tired, Mom,” she observed, head to one side.
I breathed out slowly. “Thanks.” Were my wrinkles showing more than usual? God knows my gray roots were. I looked sharply at her, but I could only read concern in her eyes.
“Look, Dad and I can go and help Mrs. Backstead. Why don’t you concentrate on the store?” Sarah held up her ever-present camera. “I’ll take the pictures and keep it all under control.”
Joe came in at that moment. “And I’ll be the grunt man. You just tell me where you want things.”
I hesitated a moment too long.
“Jeez, Mom. I think I can handle it,” Sarah snapped. “You have no idea of what I deal with on a film set. It’s crazy. Everything is shot out of order and it takes some heavy-duty organizational skills to keep it together. Give me some credit.”
Let it go, Daisy.
I forced a smile. “Okay, I’ll take you up on the offer. Thanks.”
That night I met the designer, and when she mentioned she was searching for an antique christening gown, I handed her one of Eleanor’s business cards. In a small town like this, the store owners had to stick together, and we often recommended one another to clients. The designer was delighted with her purchases, praising me on my eye for the unusual, and for the quality of the merchandise, and I knew I’d made another good connection.
Sometimes I wished Sarah could be a fly on the wall at those moments, and see me when I was at my best.
When I got home, Sarah and Joe were watching a movie on our new flat-screen TV in the library. Joe offered to fix me some dinner, but I had passed the hungry stage a couple of hours ago. Besides, I didn’t want to disturb him. He was relaxing on the chocolate-colored leather couch, his feet up on the old steamer trunk.
I kicked my sandals off and snuggled up next to him.
“Hello, stranger,” I whispered. “I feel like I never see you anymore.” I wanted to ask them how things were going at the auction, but Sarah made a shushing noise, so I leaned my head on Joe’s shoulder and tried to follow the story line of the film. The next thing I knew, it was two hours later, and he was carrying me off to bed.
Joe pulled me next to his large body, spooning me, and I think if I’d had the energy to turn over, we might have made love, but somehow sleep seemed more enticing.
Friday flew by, too, in a blur of appointments, phone calls, and website sales. In addition to this weekend’s auction, at which I planned to do some major bidding, I would need to get to some more auctions and estate sales soon and replenish my stock, but I’d hardly had a moment to breathe.
I fretted that we’d be ready for Saturday, but when I got home that night, Joe assured me that Betty and Sarah had everything well in hand. We ordered pizza for dinner as even Joe was too tired to cook.
Finally, at 9 p.m. on Friday night, I colored my damn hair.
*
“Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, and Joe, Sarah, and I headed over to Sheepville right after breakfast.
The auction building sat on three acres, with parking for a hundred cars, plus room for overspill onto the mowed fields surrounding the property. It was a large, low structure, clad in corrugated light gray metal. Inside the lobby was the reception desk, where customers registered, and also paid for their purchases afterward. Then came the snack bar, the office and bathrooms, and finally the main auction space with fluorescent light bars hanging overhead and several industrial-sized ceiling fans.
Rows of wooden folding seats that Angus had salvaged from a theater before demolition sat in the center of the concrete floor. In front of the bank of seats was the stage, and around the room were tables displaying merchandise. Large pieces of furniture were situated along the back wall, and artwork for sale hung on a paneled movable partition.
Some material would be sold “as is,” and some items had to be cleaned, polished, and repaired before auction time. Joe also had the patience for restoration, among his other stellar qualities, and he went over to the tables to fix a few last things as I walked around with Betty and Sarah.
I knew I’d have to restrain myself from checking over what they’d done, but it all looked neat and organized.
Sarah handed me a catalog. The photos were crisp and clear and the merchandise well lit. “Betty told me something about each piece and I wrote up the descriptions.”
“She’s so talented and capable,” Betty said, gazing at Sarah in admiration. “I couldn’t have done it without her.”