The Summer of Mrs. MacGregor Page 5

  “You can’t shop here,” Caroline whispered. “You’d have to have about a million dollars—”

  “It doesn’t cost anything to look, dear.” Lillina moved slowly around the store, pausing in front of one elegantly dressed mannequin and then another. When a saleswoman appeared from the dressing room, she didn’t retreat or act embarrassed.

  “May I help you?” The saleswoman looked as if her girdle was too tight and her shoes were too tight and her glasses pinched her nose. She examined Lillina carefully as she approached. Caroline realized then why Lillina had insisted they dress up. If they’d been wearing jeans, they would probably have been ignored by this imposing lady. They might even have been asked to leave.

  “That’s a charming little thing you’re looking at,” the saleswoman said. “Perfect for summer evenings.”

  Lillina shrugged carelessly. “Sweet,” she murmured. “But not for me.”

  Now she’ll tell us to get out, Caroline thought. She took a step toward the front of the store before she realized the saleswoman was smiling.

  “Well, then, what did you have in mind?” she asked. “We have some marvelous things that have just come in.”

  “Something in black linen, I think.” Lillina said the words slowly, looking around the store as if she doubted she could be satisfied. The man on the sofa had stopped watching the dressing-room door and was staring at Lillina instead.

  Caroline fought an attack of nervous giggles. She wanted to run away almost as much as she wanted to see what was going to happen next.

  “Let me see what we have. Some of our new gowns were just unpacked and pressed this morning.” The saleswoman excused herself and hurried away.

  “Now what?” Caroline whispered. “She thinks you’re going to try something on, Lillina!”

  Lillina thrust Mr. Reston’s camera into Caroline’s hands. “I am,” she said. “I love trying on clothes. And I need some pictures for my model’s portfolio. That’ll be your job, Caroline. Wait until the clerk is looking the other way and then take my picture.”

  “I can’t. She’ll see the flash!”

  “Not if you’re quick. I’ll tell you when. There isn’t any flash.”

  Lillina turned away quickly as the saleswoman came back carrying several dresses over her arm. She held them up for inspection. Two were black, one a sea-green cotton that would look wonderful with Lillina’s red hair, and the fourth a pale yellow.

  Lillina shook her head at one of the black dresses but nodded approval at the other three. “I really don’t need another green,” she said, “but that shade—”

  “Perfect for you, of course,” the saleswoman said. “Just perfect. I know you’re going to love it.” She led Lillina to the dressing rooms, walking faster now, as if her shoes didn’t hurt quite so much.

  Caroline felt a quiver of guilt. All her friends tried on pants or tops once in a while; their favorite stores expected it and encouraged the customers to put things on lay-away if they couldn’t afford to buy right away. But this was different. The saleswoman didn’t know Lillina was playing a game. She was trying to be helpful, and they were wasting her time.

  Behind one of the mannequins, out of sight of the man on the sofa, she examined the camera. It was much like her mother’s, except that her mother’s model required flashbulbs. She focused on one mannequin and then another, until voices sounded from the dressing room and another clerk appeared with a heavyset woman customer behind her.

  “Nothing looks right,” the woman snapped at the man on the sofa. “I’m so disappointed. I’d really hoped …” Her husband heaved himself out of the couch and followed her from the store, hardly seeming to hear her complaints. Caroline noticed that he looked back once. She guessed he was sorry to leave before Lillina reappeared.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  Caroline swung around to the dressing-room door. A stranger stood there—a tall, sophisticated stranger in a simple black sheath. The yellow tulip and bright-colored chains were gone. The fall of red hair swung forward and partly covered one slanted brown eye.

  Lillina laughed at Caroline’s expression and pirouetted across the carpet. It was the same graceful dance she’d done the night Caroline told her about her dream trip to England. If I tried that, Caroline thought, I’d fall over my own feet and break an ankle.

  “You look terrific, Lillina.” It was the no-nonsense truth.

  “She does, doesn’t she?” The clerk’s cheeks were pink with pleasure. “Of course, the white sandals are all wrong. And I think the neckline could take some simple jewelry. Let me get some pearls and we’ll see.…”

  She bustled off, and Lillina gestured swiftly toward the camera. “Now!” She settled on the arm of a sofa, tucking her feet to one side so the sandals didn’t show. Then she tipped her head back and smiled. Caroline snapped a picture.

  “Now this.” Lillina narrowed her eyes and looked haughtily amused. Caroline peered through the finder. Her fingers trembled. She’s beautiful, she thought. She really is like Linda, after all.

  Twenty minutes later, Lillina had tried on all three dresses, and Caroline had taken pictures of her in two of them. The yellow one was last, and in Caroline’s opinion it was the loveliest of all. But the saleswoman didn’t give her a chance to take a picture. In fact, her manner had changed slightly, and she seemed faintly puzzled as she watched Lillina strike a pose in front of a three-way mirror.

  “Just how old is your sister?” she asked Caroline in a low voice. “I assumed she was—”

  “She’s not my sister,” Caroline mumbled, suddenly panicked.

  “What do you think, Caroline dear?” Lillina threw the words over her shoulder without looking away from her reflection. “Actually, I’m rather fond of all three of them, aren’t you? But I don’t dare take them all. Frederick would be furious. Unless, of course—” She turned to the saleswoman. “Do you know, I believe I’ll have my husband come in with me. He enjoys picking out my clothes, and he has such definite tastes.…”

  The clerk’s face flushed with resentment and weariness. She knows, Caroline thought. The excitement of the last half-hour began to fade fast.

  “I’ll meet you at the fountain,” she mumbled as Lillina turned back to the dressing room. The clerk glared, and Caroline almost ran from the store. She didn’t want to be there when Lillina promised again that Frederick would come in to look at the dresses.

  “You know he can’t come,” Caroline accused a few minutes later when Lillina joined her at one of the upholstered benches near the fountain. “He’s hundreds of miles away. Why didn’t you just—”

  “Say I didn’t like the dresses?” Lillina smiled. She had a shining look. “Do you think she would have believed that? She knew I loved them all.”

  “Well, I don’t think she believes you’re married either,” Caroline said. “She was beginning to act kind of funny. I think she knew you weren’t going to buy anything.”

  “It was just fun, Caroline. After all, that other customer didn’t buy anything either.”

  “That was different.”

  Lillina looked as if she were tired of this conversation. “Actually, I could buy at least one of those dresses if I really wanted to. Frederick is going to send me money every week or so. Anyway”—she hugged herself—“now I have some more pictures for my portfolio, and that’s important. A model has to have a good portfolio of pictures to get started. I really appreciate your help, dear.” She pulled Caroline to her feet. “No more dresses today,” she promised. “I know something that’ll be just as much fun.”

  She whirled away toward the entrance of Bradens’ Department Store. Reluctantly, Caroline followed. But no more dresses, she told herself. And no coats or bathing suits or lingerie, either. It had been thrilling to watch Lillina turn into a glamorous sophisticate, but there was something dishonest about what they’d done. She thought of what Joe would have said if he’d seen them in Margo’s Fashions, and her face burned.

  B
radens’ was crowded. Sale signs hovered over every clothes rack and counter. Lillina moved purposefully through the clusters of shoppers. The yellow tulip had been left behind in Margo’s dressing room, but the red hair was easy to follow.

  When they stopped, at last, they were in front of a jewelry counter. Not the cheap-costume-stuff counter, Caroline noted sinkingly. Lillina was peering down through the top of the glass case to where more expensive pieces were displayed.

  “Look,” she said. “That bracelet with the green stones. Like emeralds. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

  “Mmm.” Caroline preferred the plain gold bracelet next to it, but she could see why Lillina liked the green. It was her color—one of them.

  “Do you want to try it on?” The clerk was no more than eighteen, a plain, sharp-featured girl who eyed Lillina as if she were some weird, exotic bug.

  No! Caroline almost said it out loud, but Lillina was already nodding yes. “I guess I will.” Casual again, indifferent, Lillina couldn’t hide the quiver of excitement in her voice. She laid a freckled arm on the black velvet display cloth and let the clerk fasten the bracelet in place.

  “It looks too heavy for you,” the clerk said bluntly. “Too old, too.”

  Lillina’s eyes glittered. “Do you think so?” she murmured. “Then I’d better try on some others.”

  In rapid succession she pointed out the gold bracelet Caroline had admired, an intricate copper circlet, a wide silver bracelet set with a single agate, and a band of silver dotted with sparkling red stones. Lillina tried on each one, holding out her arm for Caroline to admire, then laying the piece aside with a little shrug.

  Caroline shifted from one foot to the other. “I guess you can’t make up your mind,” she offered, for the clerk’s benefit. “Maybe we can come back some other time.…”

  She started to back away, but Lillina ignored the hint. “The thing is,” she said, when there were nine or ten bracelets spread out in front of her, “if I take the red and silver, I’ll want earrings to go with them. You do have earrings to match, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know.” The clerk sounded cross and a little desperate. “I just work here part-time, so I don’t know the stock real well. And I’m not supposed to have this many items out of the display case at once. I’ll have to put some of them back.”

  Lillina looked shocked. “But I haven’t decided yet,” she protested. “If you’ll please ask someone about the earrings …”

  The clerk bit her lip. “I’ll ask,” she said sullenly. “Just a minute.”

  As soon as she turned her back, Caroline clutched Lillina’s arm. “You’re not really going to buy one, are you? That silver bracelet costs fifty dollars, Lillina.”

  Lillina frowned at the display in front of her. “I just don’t know,” she said. She picked up the bracelet set with green stones and draped it lovingly over her wrist.

  Caroline had had enough. “I’m going to get a Coke,” she said. “I’ll meet you out in the mall, okay?”

  Lillina nodded absently. “I wonder which one Frederick would like best,” she mused.

  Caroline fled.

  They met again at the fountain. Caroline handed Lillina a Coke and took a sip of her own. “I have to go home,” she said. “My stepfather will be back from work, and he’ll wonder where I am.”

  “If you say so, dear,” Lillina said. She seemed different now, still tiptoe-excited, but nervous, too. “Maybe we can come back later this week.”

  “I’ll be working for Mr. Jameson.” Caroline didn’t want to come back to the mall with Lillina, not for a long time.

  “Oh, I forgot about your job.” Lillina spun around in one of her little dance steps, almost spilling her drink. “Well, we had fun, didn’t we?”

  “Some of the time,” Caroline replied soberly. “But some of it was like lying, Lillina.”

  “That’s silly, dear. You mustn’t be stuffy about things.”

  Stuffy! Caroline felt put down. She sighed and switched to a more agreeable subject. “You looked great in those dresses—like a movie star. I wish I could do that—I mean, I just wish I could feel like that.”

  Lillina smiled forgivingly. “If you want to be a model, you have to stand up straight, Caroline. You slouch. Pretend you’re hanging from a hook above your head. Make your neck as long as possible, and keep your arms and legs loose, like a puppet’s. Tuck in your chin. Smile a lot.” She crumpled her empty Coke cup and tossed it into a wastebasket. “That’s what I tell Eleanor,” she said. “Not that she needs much reminding. She has beautiful posture. She isn’t interested in modeling, of course, but she has that—”

  “Certain something?” Caroline suggested. It was one of her mother’s favorite expressions. Linda had that certain something. Lillina had it. Now even a plain old sandpiper-girl like Eleanor had it.

  Stand up straight. Pretend you’re hanging from a hook. Arms and legs loose. Tuck in your chin. Smile. Tonight, in the privacy of her bedroom, Caroline planned to experiment. It probably wouldn’t work, but she’d try.

  “We’d better go,” she said. “Don’t forget the camera.” She reached for the camera case and was surprised when Lillina snatched it out of her hands.

  “How could I forget it, dear? I mean, the camera is practically my world.”

  Caroline remembered the day they’d met, and how she’d found the camera lying on the hall table after Lillina had gone home. Maybe that was what the misunderstanding with Mrs. Reston had been about. Maybe the Restons had noticed that Lillina was careless with the camera and they had scolded her about it.

  They walked halfway up the mall to the south door and out into the late-afternoon sunshine. “The bus,” Caroline pointed at the corner. “We’d better hurry. He might be getting ready to leave.”

  They ran side by side, Lillina shortening her long lope to match Caroline’s shorter stride. They had almost reached the bus when Caroline noticed that the camera was bouncing on Lillina’s hip and rattling as she ran.

  “Better—fix,” she panted. “Camera shouldn’t—rattle—like that.”

  Without slowing her pace, Lillina opened the top of the case and slid her fingers inside. The rattling stopped. They reached the bus and ran up the steps just as the driver grasped the lever to close the door.

  “There,” Lillina murmured, settling comfortably in the front seat beside Caroline. “Relax. We made it.”

  But Caroline couldn’t relax. The camera case, tucked between her and Lillina, seemed to be burning a hole in her hip.

  Had she seen a flash of sparkling green in that second or two that the case was open? No! she told herself. No, I didn’t. But the words sounded false, the way her mother’s words sounded when she told Linda she didn’t look one bit sick.

  There had been something in that case besides the camera. Something that rattled. Something green.

  Chapter 9

  When Caroline awoke the next morning, her stomach was churning. It was a today-is-the-math-test-and-I-haven’t-studied kind of feeling. She lay on her side and watched a narrow finger of sun stretch across her desk to rest on the lampshade she was making from a silver thimble. The lampshade sparkled, and Caroline remembered the reason for this odd, sickish feeling. She’d gone to sleep last night thinking about the glitter of green in Lillina’s camera case. She felt as if she’d been dreaming about it all night.

  There was a tap on the door. “You said I should wake you.” Joe’s voice was low and sad-sounding. “I have to leave for work in a half-hour.”

  Caroline kicked off the sheet. She’d decided last night that she would make breakfast for Joe today. Bacon and eggs, she thought as she hurried to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Cinnamon toast. She’d never cooked a whole meal by herself, but breakfast shouldn’t be hard. Maybe if Joe saw that she was trying to cheer him up, he’d realize how glum, even grumpy, he’d been since the rest of the family had gone away.

  The best placemats were on the table, and she was pouring mil
k when he came into the kitchen. “Well,” he said, and Caroline could tell he was pleased. “Didn’t know you were into cooking. I thought you didn’t get interested in anything that wouldn’t fit into a dollhouse.”

  “I’m interested in food,” Caroline retorted. He was pleased, even if he showed it by needling her. She put his plate in front of him, and he started eating with enthusiasm, not seeming to notice that the bacon was burned and the eggs were a little dry.

  She filled her own plate and sat down opposite him.

  “You working for Mr. Jameson today?”

  Caroline nodded. “I guess so,” she said. “I hope he’s in a better mood than he was the first time.”

  Joe buttered a piece of toast and spooned raspberry jam onto his plate. “I thought you said things went pretty well,” he said. “You don’t have to do it, you know. He’s miserable, poor old guy. He’s not used to being dependent on other people, and since he had that stroke he hasn’t much choice. Maybe you can’t handle it.…”

  She heard the doubt in his words, the willingness to believe that she couldn’t stand up to a difficult situation. “I can do it,” she said, with more confidence than she felt. But already, she could tell, he was losing interest in the conversation. Whether she continued her job or not just wasn’t that important to him.

  “We’ll call the clinic in Boston tonight,” he said. “Around five-thirty. Your mom will be there to keep Linda company while she eats, and we can talk to both of them.”

  “Fine,” Caroline said. She fought down resentment. He could have been eating his usual cold cereal and instant coffee, she thought. After the first few bites, it hadn’t mattered. Linda, far away and too sick to do anything but lie in a hospital bed, was a more interesting stepdaughter than Caroline could ever be.

  It was a good thing she had her job with Mr. Jameson to fill her day. She didn’t want to see Lillina for a while, or even think about her, and she didn’t much want to think about her family, either. Sometimes, when Linda was sickest, Joe would say, “Thank God for my job. If I didn’t have a job, I’d go crazy.” For the first time, Caroline understood how he felt. She could hardly wait to leave the house.