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‘Got it.’
Even as a cold wind blows down the street, whipping my cheeks, I’m sweating. I don’t know if I’m hoping to see Thomas, or to avoid him.
I’M SORRY. PLEASE COME HOME.
But why? Even if I forgive him for the contract, the private investigator, meeting with Kayla without me, which, annoyingly, I think I already have, it doesn’t make any sense for Mary and me to move back in with him.
He’s already provided us with a place to live. But it would have been nice if he’d offered me my job again. My heart races faster the closer we get to the store, but my feet slow as the foot traffic increases.
I pull Mary’s hand in closer. ‘Don’t let go.’
After a minute of weaving through the crowd, I realize it’s the windows flanking Moore’s entrance that’s creating the crowds.
I knew the butterfly lights and the tableaus of mannequins enacting spring activities were eye-catching, but these crowds are more like the ones drawn by the annual Christmas displays. Dread pools when I think Thomas might have hired another display company after I left. That my design was never used.
But the dismay only lasts a moment until I see the soft lavender glow emanating from the top of the window.
Weaving through the crowd, my relief is quickly followed by shock as I peek into the first window – and freeze.
It's my design, but it’s also not.
The high-gloss, wigless, white mannequins are the perfect canvas for the purple neon glow of the butterfly lights suspended from above – just as I’d planned. But beyond that, it’s different.
Instead of two mannequins dressed in tennis clothes holding rackets, they’re in office apparel. The female mannequin, wearing a Moore’s salesperson’s uniform, is standing next to a shoe display, while the male, in a three-piece suit, is standing behind her, his phone in hand. The name tag on the salesperson reads ‘Alice’.
‘Aren’t those your shoes?’ Mary points to the table where a duplicate of my red bowed shoes sit.
I barely hear her, her voice and the noise of the crowd nearly drowned out by my heartbeat. ‘I think so.’
We move along with the crowd to the next scene. Where instead of a father and son flying a kite, it’s once again a female and male couple. This time in formal wear. The female wearing a deep-V, sky-blue Vera Wang slip dress and the male a garish black and blue paisley tux and blue suede shoes. The male mannequin is holding his hand over his left eye that has been colored with purple marker.
People jostle to take pictures, stepping in front of the man and opening my line of sight to the woman.
‘Oh. My. God.’ I stare, open-mouthed at the woman’s hand. Not the one holding a bouquet of flowers, but the other – holding Trusty Thrusty. A hysterical laugh erupts as I stare at the extra-large purple dildo that doesn’t even fit in the mannequin’s hand. I can see fishing line cutting into the thick silicone, holding the dildo in place.
Women hold out their hands as if measuring its size, smiling appreciatively. Guys snicker. An elderly woman rolls her eyes but doesn’t stop looking.
Mary gasps and points and I nearly cover her eyes before realizing she’s pointing to the next scene. ‘That’s Mike Hunt!’
People next to us on the sidewalk startle and turn to us as Mary jumps up and down in front of the third tableau. It’s a mannequin cat, wearing the collar Thomas bought him, sitting on its haunches next to a man and girl mannequin building a rocket ship out of Legos. The Lego bricks are multicolored.
‘This is so cool.’ Mary skips in place, waiting for the crowd to move.
Finally, we reach the entrance to Moore’s.
‘Alice!’ Bell shoots her hand into the air and waves, as if we’re much farther than three people away.
‘Bell?’ I watch my friend bob and weave past the three bystanders before she envelops me into a hug.
‘I’m so happy to see you!’ Her smile as bright as it was on her wedding day suddenly blurs and I realize I’m crying.
‘Oh, Alice. No, don’t cry.’
‘I’m sorry I left your wedding. I should’ve—’
‘Stop. Please.’ She glances behind her as if afraid someone might see. ‘I beg of you. I am not mad.’
‘Aunt Alice?’ Mary’s worried looks smacks some sense into me.
