Eva
Eva locks the door behind her last customer of the day. With tears in her eyes, she turns to her associate of twenty years. “How will I ever manage without you?”
“Oh, honey, come here.” Annette reaches for her. “My offer still stands. Florida can wait. I’ll postpone my retirement.”
Eva sags against Annette’s stout frame, the familiar arms comforting her. She’s cried many tears on Annette’s shoulder throughout the years. “I can no longer afford to pay you, and I can’t let you work for free. Besides, if not for me, you would’ve moved years ago.”
Annette strokes Eva’s cropped salt-and-pepper hair. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re in a good place now.”
Pushing Annette away, Eva faces the showroom. “There’s a good chance I’ll have to close the shop. What will I do then?”
Annette stands close enough behind her for Eva to feel the heat radiating from her body. “You’ll close the shop. And you’ll do what I’ve been telling you to do for years—you’ll sell that mausoleum you live in. It’ll be good for you to leave all these sad memories behind and start over somewhere new.”
Feeling the onset of a headache, Eva pinches the bridge of her nose. “The memories are all I have left. I can’t leave Richmond. What if Reese comes home and I’m not here?”
Annette exhales, her breath tickling Eva’s neck. “I’ve never said this to you, but I’ve thought it many times. You would’ve heard from Reese by now if she were still alive. Or someone would’ve spotted her. Or the police would’ve received a lead. It’s time for you to face reality, Eva. Reese is never coming home.”
Eva shakes her head. “You’re wrong, Annette. My daughter is out there somewhere, and one day she’ll come home. And when she does, I’ll be here waiting for her.”
“At least come visit me in Florida. Do you think you can leave Richmond for a long weekend?”
“Maybe,” Eva says, but she knows she won’t leave Richmond for even a day. “Although it’ll be difficult with no one to cover the shop now that you’re gone.”
“Why don’t you close Claudia’s Closet in early August when everyone in town goes to the beach. Tape a note to your front door in the extreme off-chance Reese picks that week to return home. And tell your crazy neighbor . . . what’s his name . . .” She snaps her fingers until the name comes to her. “Ian! You tell Ian where you’re going in case he needs to reach you.”
“We’ll see. But I can’t think about that now.” Eva glances at her watch. She’s ready to be alone with her ghosts. “I’m sure you have packing left to do.”
Annette leaves her side and moves about the shop, her white New Balance running shoes squeaking against the wooden floorboards as she makes her final lap. When she’s ready to leave, Eva walks her through the shop and the adjacent stockroom to the back door. A lump fills her throat. If Annette lingers, Eva will break down.
Annette hands Eva her dull brass key to the shop. “You’ll need this for my replacement. Hire someone, honey. You can’t run the shop alone.”
“I’ll think about it.” Eva takes the key and unlocks the door. “Good luck with the move.”
Annette palms her cheek. “You’ll remember to eat. You can’t afford to lose any more weight.”
Eva nods. “I’ll remember to eat.”
Annette wags her finger at Eva. “No pills, and you’ll limit the drinking.”
Another nod. “I promise.”
“We’ll FaceTime every day.”
Eva lets out a moan. “You know how much I hate technology.” But staying in touch is important to Annette and she quickly adds, “We’ll do it all—text, talk, and FaceTime.”
A sudden gust of winter wind causes both women to shiver. “I should get going.”
They embrace for a long moment. When Annette draws away, she has tears in her eyes. She presses her fingers to her lips. She wants to say something, but she’s too choked up to speak. Her hand shoots up in a parting wave as she hurries out to her car in the gravel parking lot.
Closing the door behind her, Eva drops the spare key in the desk drawer in the stockroom and returns to the showroom. Eva has big shoes to fill. Annette, a master of organization and inventory control, always kept mental lists with detailed notes of every item of vintage apparel. She knew their regular customers well and, at any given moment, could find the perfect item to fill a shopper’s wants and needs. Eva was content to let Annette take charge of the retail side of the business while she handled the accounting and purchasing. But now, with Annette’s departure, all of the responsibility will fall on her.
She’ll give it until May. If business doesn’t improve, she’d sell the shop and cut her losses before she blows through the remainder of her savings.
Eva inhales a dusty breath, feeling better having set a deadline. Removing her clutch from under the front counter, she turns out the lights and exits the back door. As she weaves through the streets of The Fan, her thoughts drift to the vodka and soda waiting for her at home. She only allows herself one, but that one is the highlight of her day.
Eva finds every house on her block charming in its own way, but she thinks hers is the most cheerful with brick painted soft gray and double front doors a lemony yellow. As she parallel parks her old Volvo wagon on the curb out front, she notices a lone figure, a woman, standing at the second-floor window of the house across the street. Her new neighbor. She turns off the engine, and as she gets out of the car, she waves up at the woman. The woman lifts her hand in response. From the distance, it’s difficult to tell her age, but Eva guesses she’s in her late twenties. The same age as Reese. Maybe Eva will bake a cake to welcome her to the neighborhood.
She is reaching for the brass knob on her paned storm door when she hears a familiar voice. “I made Brunswick stew this afternoon. I thought you might like some for your dinner.”
She looks up to see Ian, her next-door neighbor, on the porch beside her with a plastic container in hand. She’s known him for thirty years, as long as she’s lived on West Avenue. Eva’s husband, Stuart, was out of town on business the night she went into labor, two weeks before the baby was due. Ian drove her to the hospital and stayed with her until Reese was born. With no children of his own, he doted on Reese like an uncle and she worshiped him in return. He was distraught when she went missing.
Ian now fusses over Eva like a mother hen. He takes her trash to the street on pickup day. Goes to the pharmacy for medicine when she has the flu. Helps with rodent and plumbing problems. Not to mention, he’s a fabulous cook, bringing her goodies several times a week.
Behind him, Mack waves at Eva from Ian’s front porch. Both men are wearing cowboy boots, plaid shirts, and Stetson hats. Ian changes his style as frequently as he changes live-in lovers. Mack is the son of a cattle farmer from Texas. Before him was Nathan, a florist who displayed breathtaking arrangements of fresh flowers and orchids around the house. Then there was Chester, the artist, who adorned Ian’s walls with canvases splashed with bright colors. But Eva’s favorite, Santiago, the musician, had been Reese’s favorite as well. Reese had taken guitar lessons for years, but Santiago taught her how to play with heart.