Pie Girls

Chapter 5

There is no sneaking into Saks Fifth Avenue.

         "Darling," a salesperson greets me from the cosmetics aisle. I wave and ignore her curious stare at the yellow sheet around my shoulders.

         "Searcy, sweetheart," another coos as I tug at the pink blanket and try to dash past the lingerie department.

         "So great to see you," a manager calls out as I crouch low on the escalator to the second floor of the department store.

         Head down, I make straight for the personal shopping area and practically dive into my favorite dressing room with Lucinda at my heels.

         "I may have to move to Russia," I announce and slump into a cushioned lounge seat.

         “What? How—?”

"There was this adorable little girl. Then a blueberry muffin, and an Icee…”

         Lucinda clucks her tongue in disapproval.

         "I know—" I roll my eyes. "Silly me. I was on the Marta."

         "Oh, angel, what have I told you about public transportation? How perfectly awful," Lucinda clasps her hands under her chin and looks at me with worried brown eyes.

         She’s so perfectly serious, I almost giggle. Minus today’s mishap, I like riding the Marta, being around regular people. It’s a refreshing change from having to be perfect 24/7.

Lucinda pats my shoulder. "Wait right here, dear. We'll get you all fixed up."

         While she goes on the hunt, I regroup and glance at my iPhone.

         Nothing.

         He's at work, I tell myself. He's come to his senses. Alton had a good night's sleep and realized that he was being foolish.

         There's a knock on the door and I slip my cell into my purse. Lucinda is back with champagne, a luxurious, full-length Vera Wang bathrobe, faux fur slippers, and a pouch of baby wipes. She sets everything down on the table beside me.

         "You get cleaned up and comfortable, Searcy. Just slip into these, and in a minute, I'll take those nasty clothes. We'll send them to dry cleaning and see what we can do."

         "Shoes and all?" I ask meekly.

         "Shoes and all," she says, smiling, and closes the door behind her.

         I sink further into the chair and survey the small space. Seeing the champagne lifts my spirits slightly. Lucinda always remembers my signature favorite:  Two raspberries in the glass. The bubbles swim and pop to the surface as I reach for the crystal stem.