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Something in me knew that Cassie and Matilda hadn’t come to the store just to buy dresses or
earrings, a fact confirmed when Cassie returned on her own two days later, just before closing time.
“I thought I’d take you up on the offer to help me accessorize,” she said, pulling a little black dress
out of a shopping bag.
“Oh great, yeah.”
I was surprised at how happy I was to see her. She followed me to the dressing rooms, my
nervousness making me uncharacteristically chatty.
“I have a pair of gold hoops and a cuff that’ll look amazing with that dress. What size are your
feet? You need to try everything on with shoes.”
“Eight,” she said, slipping into a stall.
I dashed to my office ahead of her, catching myself in the mirror: cat glasses, cream-colored
twinset and A-line plaid skirt. I looked like an extra on Happy Days. I didn’t even need glasses. Ugh.
Why did I suddenly care what I had on? I flipped through my index cards and cross-referenced them
to the second drawer of the third filing cabinet where I stored my gold hoops; the drawer below held
my cuffs. I was saving the big hoops for a Cher-type outfit, but on Cassie, with a simple black dress,
they’d be stunning. Cassie poked open the office door, trying not to look shocked at my hive of
inventory.
“Wow. There’s a whole other store back here.”
“Trust me,” I said. “I know it looks like a lot of stuff, but I know exactly where everything is.”
I pulled her in front of the nearest mirror.
“The top is a little snug. I haven’t worn it since Jazz Fest,” she said, tugging at the halter.
She looked gorgeous in black and I said so. I was about to snap the cuff around her wrist when I
noticed her charm bracelet; it was unlike anything I’d seen before.
“That’s a stunning piece,” I said, holding up her wrist to get a better look at it. Normally, charm
bracelets did nothing to charm me. They were often so trinket-y, but this one was distinctive. It was
made with my favorite kind of gold too, pale yellow, with that rough hammered finish. The chain was
thick, almost masculine, and each charm had a Roman numeral engraved on one side, a word on the
other.
“Curiosity … Generosity … Courage—where did you get this?” I asked.
Cassie gently pried her wrist free.
“It was … given to me.”
“It’s about as beautiful a thing as I’ve ever seen. Whoever gave this to you thinks very highly of
you.”
“I think you might be right about that,” she said. “But does it go with this dress?”
“Mmm … Not really. It overwhelms it. Why don’t you try this—?”
I traded a simple cuff for her bracelet. When she dropped it in my palm, it felt heavy, pleasing; it
took everything in me not to slip it on my own wrist.
“No necklace?” she asked, sliding the cuff over her bare wrist.
“Not with a halter dress,” I said with authority, my attention still drawn to the bracelet in my hand.
“These hoops will add a bit of sparkle. But I would keep the sides of your hair up.”
She took the earrings from my other hand and held them next to her lobes.
“See? Perfect,” I said.
“You’re right. That’s perfect. Wrap them up.”
She passed me the earrings and held out her hand. It was the strangest sensation, my reluctance to
return her bracelet.