Whispers of the Past (Story 4)

~1~

~Caroline~ 

"...And this would ship from Paris?"

I stood behind the counter of my boutique-preceded by my dear, late friend, Penelope-in the shopping district of the city and put on my most friendly smile. It had taken me a couple of months to perfect the smile when I had first started working here-when Penelope had been here... Of course dealing with rude customers had helped. The woman on the other side-my customer-had my Spring addition catalogue open that had just come in the mail from France. Having a husband that knew very important people was useful in the business industry.

My business; Penelope's Boutique-renamed. "Yes. Standardly, it would arrive in two to three weeks but if you wanted it sooner, we could get it rushed for a fee," I explained. I'd already pulled her in with the whole "Fall addition" pitch.

The lady was beautiful, had the perfect body for the dress. But I could only assume in a few years her husband would probably trade her in for a "trophy" wife. "Oh, that's perfect. A rush would be best, Dear."

On my side of the counter, cubbies and drawers were built in. "So there is a small form to fill out, just so we can make you an account for custom ordering. It's easier to already have it here just in case you feel like ordering again in the future. Once my tailor takes your measurements, we can place the order." I opened up a drawer and pulled a form from the stack of copies and gave her that smile again.

"Of course, Dear. Not a problem." She took the paper and instead of grabbing a pen from the penholder on the counter, she took one from her purse. If she called me Dear one more time...

"Great. I'll see if my tailor is available now. I can put your order in this afternoon."

"Wonderful," She replied, barely glancing up from the elegant stroke her pen was doing on paper. I left her there and went down the long stretch of hallway that held three very large and elegant dressing rooms and also led to Jocelyn Delany's 'office' at the end. When Penelope had been here, the entire section of the building had been closed off. Penny had always done her own altering. 

It was good to be working. I'd done the whole picking out wallpapers for the house and being a stay-at-home mom but that had been years ago. The twins' daycare had extended it's evening hours for Spring and Summer, so the very gated care facility was perfect this time of year when both their father and I were busy. It was a plus that they loved it so much. 

Friday and Saturday were "Family Nights"-the boutique was closed those days-and it also gave them a break from daycare. On Sunday's when the shop was only open for half the day, Mrs. Thompson watched them.

My heels tapped against the polished wood floors and I made it down to Jocelyn's workspace. It was filled with everything someone needed to be a tailor. A sewing station, a wall full of threads, two SINGER mannequins where she did her alterations and a round tailor's sand in the middle of the room. 

She had her chair rolled up to a mannequin and was in serious concentration when I knocked softly at the door. "Hey. Do you have time for a measurement before you leave?" I asked her, glancing down at my watch. It was almost five, which was usually when her and Nadine left and I closed the shop. I didn't get out until six most nights, if I had orders.

Jocelyn was a very small woman-smaller than me even-and had short black hair that shined under any type of lighting and fell just passed her chin. She didn't look anywhere near her thirties but was certainly older and wise. She was also married to the VP of a local motorcycle's club, Ivan Delany-who was almost more terrifying than Lenny Baker.