She returned Karen's cautious greeting and then gave Rob a casual, dismissive glance as definitive as a royal "We give you leave to go." Rob winked at Karen and discreetly faded away.
"How can you stand working with that man?" Miriam asked. Her voice was high-pitched and rather whiny. "He's such a poseur."
"Oh, Rob's not so bad," Karen said, knowing full well that the office door had been left open a crack. "Are you looking for something in particular, Miriam, or would you rather browse in peace?"
"I came to talk to you." Miriam frowned at an almost invisible spot on her white handbag. "I hope you don't think I was rude the other day."
"Why, no."
"I'm afraid I was. I didn't mean to be. It's Shreve's fault. Of course she's an old friend and I'm terribly fond of her, but she is awfully bossy. And tactless. You'd think that after all these years in Washington she would have learned a little discretion. But no, she just charges straight ahead like a bull in a china shop, without realizing that she antagonizes people."
Nothing like an old friend who is terribly fond of you to cut you down, Karen thought. Aloud she said carefully, "Shreve always had a-a strong personality."
"Anyway, I thought I ought to explain why I behaved so rudely."
"You weren't rude. Don't give it another thought."
"I don't like people to think badly of me," Miriam murmured.
Karen reassured her again. Miriam seemed to require a lot of reassurance. Who would have supposed that a woman so richly endowed with worldly goods could be so insecure? According to Julie, Mr. Montgomery was one of the wealthiest men in the Southeast.
"I'm so glad you understand," Miriam said. "Now I hope you can help me. I'm thinking of giving a little party next month. Everyone seems to be into nostalgia these days-though I can't imagine why…"
Her voice trailed off indecisively.
"The good old days," Karen said.
"What was so good about them? I wouldn't want to live my high school years over-would you?"
"No," Karen said, with an involuntary grimace. "I guess not. So you want a theme for your party, is that it?"
"How clever of you! And I suppose I'll need a dress, won't I?"
"From the seventies?" Karen asked doubtfully. She was getting used to customers who took forever to tell her what they wanted, possibly because they didn't know themselves.
"I need something really smashing. I guess the seventies aren't really 'in,' are they?"
"Not in terms of vintage clothing, no. I have a few fifties and sixties dresses, but I wouldn't call them smashing. Some of the younger girls like those styles, but they aren't old enough to be vintage or quaint."
"What do you recommend?" The spot on Miriam's handbag seemed to bother her; she picked at it with a manicured nail.
"What about the twenties? I have some gorgeous dresses from that period. And you have the right figure for them."
Miriam smoothed her flat stomach complacently. "I try to keep in shape. The twenties? Yes, that could be fun. Jazz and prohibition and-and that sort of thing."
Like bootleggers and gang wars, Karen thought. Oh well, nostalgia is in the eye of the beholder.
"I have several beautiful flapper dresses," she said. "But they aren't here; they are designer originals and very expensive."
"I assumed they would be," said Miriam.
She wanted to see the dresses and she wanted to see them right away. She was perfectly pleasant about it; her excuse for insisting on immediate service-that she lived in Middleburg and did not get into the city often- was eminently reasonable. Karen did not hesitate long. She suspected Miriam was trying to do her a favor, as a way of apologizing for her rudeness the week before. If she didn't strike while the iron was hot, Miriam might change her mind, and she would lose a sale. Besides, Rob owed her for several long lunches and early departures.
At Karen's suggestion they walked to the house. This time she remembered Alexander and managed to collar him before he could sink his teeth into Miriam's leg. Miriam did not care for Alexander. She was rude enough to refer to him as a "hideous creature," and Alexander, resenting the insult, growled and struggled to free himself as Karen bore him away.
Miriam's attitude was now much more that of customer to shopkeeper; she seated herself regally in the parlor and let Karen trot up and down stairs with the dresses. They had to be carried one at a time, for the weight of the crystal drops and beads was so great that they cast a strain on the fragile fabric. Miriam seemed pleased and a little surprised at the beauty of the gowns; she wavered for some time between two that bore the names of famous designers. Both were the standard straight chemises with slit skirts. One was covered from neckline to hem with white crystal beads, on white silk. The other had iridescent Venetian glass beads on pale-aqua crepe de chine; the slightest movement bathed the wearer in a soft shimmer, like a mermaid in the moonlight. The color was flattering to Miriam's washed-out complexion, but she seemed loath to give up the white.
Finally she shrugged. "I may as well take both. How much?"
"Don't you want to try them on?" Karen asked in surprise.
"No, there's no need. You'll pack them for me, I assume."
"Oh, I can't let you have them today," Karen exclaimed. "Some of the beads are loose, and you can see they need cleaning-"
"Oh." Miriam thought for a moment. "When will they be ready?"
"I'm not sure. I'll have to ask the cleaners how long it will take. Shall I let you know?"
"All right." Miriam reached for her checkbook. "How much?"
Karen took a deep breath. "The Hattie Carnegie is nine hundred and fifty." There was no reaction from Miriam except a slight movement of impatience as she sat with her pen poised. Karen went on, "The white one is- is thirteen hundred. That comes to two thousand, two hundred and fifty. Plus tax."
Miriam stared at her. "You've got to be kidding."
"I know it seems like a lot, but the white one was handmade by Callot Soeurs."
Miriam's face was as blank as a doll's. Karen said firmly, "I could probably get more from someone else, Miriam. I'm giving you a break because I hope you will want other things-and recommend me to your friends. You don't have to pay me now. Or you can give me a deposit, if you like."
Miriam bent her head over the checkbook and began to write.
AFTER Miriam had left, Karen stood admiring the check she held. Two thousand two hundred and fifty dollars, plus tax. The full amount. That had been really decent of Miriam. One couldn't blame her for her initial protest. A woman who could casually dash off a check for over two thousand dollars might not be expected to balk at such a sum, but Karen knew from experience that the richer the customer, the more likely she was to haggle.
Of course a third of the money belonged to Mrs. MacDougal, and today's sale was an unusual event, one that wouldn't happen often. All the same, it deserved a celebration. Karen decided she would not go back to work. It was four-thirty and she felt sure Rob had already closed up.
She went flying down the hall to release Alexander from the kitchen. He almost fainted with surprise when she snatched him up and hugged him. "Steak for you tonight, my boy. And champagne for me!"
Alexander's ears pricked up. He had an extensive vocabulary, and "steak" was a word he knew.
Karen put a bottle of champagne into the refrigerator and reached for the telephone.