LITMIR.BIZ

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a few minutes.”

      Dorthea said, “Let’s see if I have something in my pocket.”

      She made a big production of digging deep into the pocket of her stretchy elastic-waist jeans, then pulled her hand out and opened it with the flair of a magician. A shiny new quarter caught the sun. “It was so bright and new I thought I’d save it for Livvy, if that’s all right.”

      “Of course. Oh, I’d better go,” I said. “It looks like Nathan is pulling up our gardenias.”

      Chapter Five

      I was dashing into the Base Exchange to pick up a bag of dog food before I met Mitch for lunch when the name Topaz Simoniti caught my eye.

      I pushed the stroller over to the cash register for a closer look at the sign that read MAKE CHECKS PAYABLE TO TOPAZ SIMONITI.

      The woman running the kiosk was turned away from me, helping a customer. She had brown hair and was shorter than me. It could be her.

      I checked the sign again. Come on, who else could it be with a name like that? Memories of Mrs. Daniel’s ninth grade history class—the last, endless class of the day—came rushing back: the smell of Corey Tate’s stinky shoes, the ping of the metal high bar clattering to the ground through the open windows in the spring when one someone missed their jump, Mrs. Daniel’s boxy-heeled shoes clomping along the aisles as she passed out papers, the chain connected to the frame of her half-glasses swinging back and forth with each step. You knew you were in trouble when Mrs. Daniel stopped at your desk and pulled those glasses down to the tip of her nose and looked over them at you.

      Thankfully, I was hardly ever on the receiving end of her glare. Topaz, on the other hand, had endured the glare often, but it didn’t bother her.

      “Mom, where’s Dad?” A tug on my sleeve and Livvy’s voice brought me back to the present and I glanced around the mall area of the Base Exchange. To call it a mall was stretching it. Minimall or lobby would be more accurate. The wide high-ceilinged hallway stretched the length of the Base Exchange, which was a department store located on Taylor Air Force Base. The minimall had a small food court at one end and shops—a florist, the uniform shop, a barbershop, and a dry cleaner—lined the rest of the space. Kiosks of independent vendors filled the middle aisle.

      You never knew what vendors would be in the minimall. I’d seen rugs, paintings, cookware, clothing, military memorabilia, and books. Topaz’s booth was divided in half. One side displayed home decor items made from metal. Candlesticks, metal-framed mirrors, napkin rings, and flower buckets ranged along the shelves. Each featured delicate twists of metal threaded with sparkly beads or interesting meshwork. The other side of the booth displayed a range of jewelry from chunky metal designs to fragile shells.

      I glanced around again before I answered Livvy. “He’ll be here in a minute,” I said. “Why don’t you go get a drink from the water fountain?” She skipped a few feet over to the water fountain and pulled a step stool into place. I could tell by the way she moved she felt grown-up. Getting to go to the water fountain alone was a big deal at three. Of course, she would point out that she was “almost three and a half.”

      “Were you looking for something in particular?” The woman had finished with the other customer.

      I swiveled slightly, so I could keep Livvy in sight as I said, “No. I mean, everything is lovely, but I wanted to talk to you. You’re Topaz Simoniti?” She’d put on a little weight, but then again, hadn’t we all? Her eyes, her namesake, were the same light golden brown. She’d once said, “They’re brown, your basic brown. Boring. Trust my mom to go from ‘brown’ to ‘topaz.’ I guess it could be worse. I could be named coffee or something.”

      She thought her eyes were boring, but everything else I remembered about her was interesting. Even as a sophomore she’d been eccentric. Because I sat behind her, I’d spent a lot of time looking at the back of her head during American history and even that hadn’t been boring. At the beginning of the year she’d had long straight brown hair. Each day was a different style—braids, ponytail, slicked back with gel, crimped. You named a style and Topaz had done it to her hair. After Christmas break, she came back with jet-black hair and clothes to match the goth look. By spring, she’d shifted to white blond and red lipstick. I wasn’t sure if she was doing a retro—Marilyn Monroe thing or an ironic take on Madonna. Then she cycled through looks, chameleon-like, as styles changed.

      Today her hair was back to brown, but streaked with bold blond highlights at half-inch intervals. The asymmetrical cut was shorter on the left than the right and exposed a dangly chandelier-type earring of different size keys on one side. Her hair curved longer on the other side, hiding all but the tip of the other earring. Her round face and padded cheeks looked the same, if a little more plump. Her porcelain skin was still flawless. She’d never had a zit and I’d told her once it was a crime to cover up her great skin with all that white makeup during her goth phase. She’d laughed it off and said she’d rather have my tiny hips than perfect skin. Well, my hips weren’t so tiny anymore and Topaz still had her great skin.

      “I’m Ellie Avery—I mean Ellie Westby. That was my maiden name.”

      She blinked a couple of times, a puzzled look still on her face. “From high school,” I added. “Mrs. Daniel’s class. Remember the awful Saints and Sinners quizzes?” Her eyebrows scrunched together as she tilted her head slightly toward me like she was having trouble hearing me. This was getting embarrassing. “You probably don’t remember. I had the Rachel haircut and sat behind you in sixth-period American history at Llano Estacado High.”

      Her face cleared and she broke into a grin. “Ellie! Of course I remember you. And how could anyone ever forget those Saints and Sinners quizzes? So, how are you?”

      “Good.” How do you sum up your life in a couple of sentences? “I’m married now, obviously. New name and all. My husband’s a pilot in the Air Force and we were transferred here last winter. I’m a professional organizer.”

      “And a mom, too,” Topaz said as she leaned over to look in the stroller.

      “I always think that’s kind of apparent,” I said, grinning as I pulled back the stroller’s visor. “This is Nathan, our youngest. He’s eleven months old.”

      “Mom, can I get another drink?” Livvy said, pulling on my arm.

      “No. Not right now. This is a friend of mine from school.” I introduced Livvy and she suddenly became shy, clinging to my hand and hiding her face against my leg, her standard operating procedure with new adults.

      “You do not look old enough to have two kids!” Topaz exclaimed. “You look great. How do you do it?”

      I shrugged a shoulder. “Must be all that chasing after the kids—keeps me in shape, at least a little bit. So, tell me about what you’ve been doing for the last—what would it be—ten years? Are you here at the BX a lot?”

      “Some. I hit the bases’ exchanges in the fall and winter. I spend the spring and summer on the road at craft fairs and visiting shops. I have a lot of merchandise on consignment at little boutique-type places. North Dawkins is home base for me now. It’s a good central location.”

      “How did you get started?” I picked up a candlestick holder. The base was weighty and solid. Several fine wires twisted around it and swirled up to encase the taper candles. A couple of glass beads were spaced irregularly along the wire. The candlesticks were good quality and the twisty wires added a quirky flair to them.

      I wasn’t much of a shopper. In fact, I’d designated Abby as my personal shopper. The only retail section that interested me was the designer purse section. I liked browsing the handbags at department stores, but what got my pulse racing was looking for purses at thrift shops and on Internet auction sites. On the topic of Kate Spade versus Louis Vuitton, I knew what I was talking about. All other types of shopping bored me silly and I left those up to Abby. She had a knack for putting things together and making a room or an outfit look spectacular. I thought she’d approve

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