Together, the two of them loaded the velvet board trays into the wicker basket. We could get back something on the metal, Frink said to himself, if worse comes to worst. And the tools and equipment; we can dispose of them at a loss, but at least we’ll get something.
This is the moment to consult the oracle. Ask, How will Ed make out on this first selling trip? But he was too nervous to. It might give a bad omen, and he did not feel capable of facing it. In any case, the die was cast: the pieces were made, the shop set up—whatever the I Ching might blab out at this point.
It can’t sell our jewelry for us… it can’t give us luck.
“I’ll tackle Childan’s place first,” Ed said. “We might as well get it over with. And then you can try a couple. You’re coming along, aren’t you? In the truck. I’ll park around the corner.”
As they got into their pickup truck with their wicker hamper, Frink thought, God knows how good a salesman Ed is, or I am. Childan can be sold, but it’s going to take a presentation, like they say.
If Juliana were here, he thought, she could stroll in there and do it without batting an eye; she’s pretty, she can talk to anybody on earth, and she’s a woman. After all, this is women’s jewelry. She could wear it into the store. Shutting his eyes, he tried to imagine how she would look with one of their bracelets on. Or one of their large silver necklaces. With her black hair and her pale skin, doleful, probing eyes, wearing a gray jersey sweater, a little bit too tight, the silver resting against her bare flesh, metal rising and falling as she breathed.
God, she was vivid in his mind, right now. Every piece they made, the strong, thin fingers picked up, examined; tossing her head back, holding the piece high. Juliana sorting, always a witness to what he had done.
Best for her, he decided, would be earrings. The bright dangly ones, especially the brass. With her hair held back by a clip or cut short so that her neck and ears could be seen. And we could take photos of her for advertising and display. He and Ed had discussed a catalog, so they could sell by mail to stores in other parts of the world. She would look terrific… her skin is nice, very healthy, no sagging or wrinkles, and a fine color. Would she do it, if I could locate her? No matter what she thinks of me; nothing to do with our personal life. This would be a strictly business matter.
Hell, I wouldn’t even take the pictures. We’d get a professional photographer to do it. That would please her. Her vanity probably as great as always. She always liked people to look at her, admire her; anybody. I guess most women are like that. They crave attention all the time. They’re very babyish that way.
He thought, Juliana could never stand being alone; she had to have me around all the time complimenting her. Little kids are that way; they feel if their parents aren’t watching what they do then what they do isn’t real. No doubt she’s got some guy noticing her right now. Telling her how pretty she is. Her legs. Her smooth, flat stomach.
“What’s the matter?” Ed said, glancing at him. “Losing your nerve?”
“No,” Frink said.
“I’m not just going to stand there,” Ed said. “I’ve got a few ideas of my own. And I’ll tell you something else: I’m not scared. I’m not intimidated just because it’s a fancy place and I have to put on this fancy suit. I admit I don’t like to dress up. I admit I’m not comfortable. But that doesn’t matter a bit. I’m still going in there and really give it to that poop-head.”