OP-DEC: Operation Deceit

Chapter 8

Boxes and tissue lay scattered about the room. Claire dashed to-and-fro, searching. Her aunt stood nearby, aghast at the mess but smiling with amusement.

"Honey," Aunt said. "For a girl who wanted nothing to do with him, you certainly are taking an awful lot of care."

"Have you seen my new shoes?" Claire asked, not listening.

Claire tossed box tops and tissues this way and that. In the middle of the pile on the floor, she found one mate of a new pair of heels she'd purchased for that night. She hopped about, putting the silver-blue pump on her foot.

"All I see's a tornado hit Boston!" Aunt said, gesturing to the room.

Claire grumbled with frustration. She limped to her bed where she left her hat to wait while she tore about unproductively.

"Sarry says it makes little sense to go out if you don't go out with style," Claire said. "You never know who you'll meet."

Claire gimped through the muddle of boxes to her mirror and carefully placed the hat on her head. The powder blue cap made her eyes glow. She grabbed some pins and started to place them to keep it still.

"It makes little sense to go out with a young man and make this much of a fuss if you don't have an inkling of liking him," Aunt said, going to her. She wrestled the pins from Claire and helped her affix the hat neatly. She looked at her niece's reflection in the mirror. Claire pouted. "It's no matter to me," Aunt said, to put her at ease.

Claire's shoulders relaxed. She considered her new dress in the mirror. The silvery garment, the same shade as lustrous aquamarines, was one of the most beautiful she'd seen since the start of the war. It cost too. She sighed, thinking on what her aunt said.

"Did you check the box the shoes came in?"

"Half a hundred times," Claire answered.

Aunt went to the mess and retrieved the box. Claire continued to eye herself in the mirror. She wondered if the dress implied too much. After all, this was a mercy date. Locking gazes with her reflection, she warned herself not to be so harsh. She grasped a pair of earrings from the edge of her dressing table and put them on.

"Here," Aunt said, presenting the shoe's mate from its box.

"What d'ya know?" Claire said.

Claire whisked the slipper out of the box and onto her foot. She smoothed her skirt back down and stood tall and straight as she smiled at her aunt. Aunt smiled back, but the expression faded.

"You look so much like your mother," Aunt said, touching Claire's hair.

Claire frowned at the bittersweet comparison.

"Well, you don't have her straw hair. You got your grandaddy's hair." Aunt tried to brush away the melancholy. She smiled big, but tears flooded her eyes.

Claire smiled back and threw her arms around her aunt, quite thankful for her every effort since the tragedy of her childhood.

"Thank you," Claire said against Aunt's shoulder. She squeezed her, not wanting to let go.

Aunt hugged her back. She licked her lips and choked back tears. Though she never admitted to it, Aunt was quite sentimental. Claire had always felt treasured by her.

"For what?" Aunt scoffed.

Claire drew back and knowingly smiled at her. "For finding my shoe."

Aunt cocked her head to the side and chuckled. "The least I could do." She tossed the box into the mess. "Hurry up! You're gonna be late."

Claire swallowed hard. The image of Carsten waiting downstairs made her heart race with apprehension while she continued to get ready. All too soon she would see him firsthand.