LITMIR.BIZ

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strips. Twenty bucks! I was amazed, but then it dawned on me that I could make some money from basically nothing. I got a booth and started selling my stuff.”

      I picked up one of her business cards from a smooth wooden holder, a four-inch section of a tree branch with the bark removed and the wood sanded to a silky finish. “Found Objects,” I read.

      “It’s a fancy name,” she said. “Basically, I take stuff people don’t want—what they throw away or what nature leaves lying around—and make it into things, then sell them.”

      “How long will you be here at the BX?” I asked.

      “Through the end of the week and then I’m not sure where I’m off to. There are a couple of stores I need to visit on the coast…but I don’t know. I might hang here for a little while. Depends on what I feel like.”

      I set the candlestick holders down by the register. “These are beautiful. I’ll take them,” I said.

      There were other customers lining up behind me, so I paid for the candlesticks, then gave her one of my cards for Everything In Its Place, my organizing business. I had to dig pretty deep into my purse to get one. I hadn’t exactly had people clamoring for help organizing their life since we’d moved to Georgia. Starting a business was hard. I’d had a fairly good stream of clients while we were stationed at our last assignment in Vernon, Washington. But I’d discovered that starting over in a new city was even harder than the initial business start-up.

      I bought the dog food, then went on to the food court, where I spotted Mitch in line. I grabbed a table and waved him over. He set down a tray with several slices of pizza and before I could tell him about Nita Lockworth’s visit or running into Topaz, he said, “The list came out today.”

      He didn’t have to explain which list. We’d been waiting for the major promotion list for weeks.

      “And?” I stopped cutting pizza into bites for Livvy.

      “I’ll have to buy new rank.”

      “Mitch, that’s great.” Buying new rank meant changing the pins and patches on his uniforms to reflect his promotion. We’d been hoping for the promotion to major. Mitch was a year under the zone, which was complicated to explain. There was a time frame, a group of years, when Mitch could be selected to be promoted. “Under the zone” meant he’d been picked before most of the people in his time frame. The others could still make it, but it would be next year or the year after. “We can celebrate it when we go on our date on Sunday.” We’d been trying to go on a date for weeks, but so far either our sitter had canceled or the kids had gotten sick.

      “You know what pinning on new rank means,” he said.

      “Um…it doesn’t mean we’re moving sooner, right?”

      “No, we’re here for at least a couple more years. It means a party—a promotion party.”

      “Oh. How could I forget?” It was kind of strange, like a lot of things in the Air Force, actually. You got the promotion and then you threw your own party and invited the whole squadron. Sounds selfish, I know, but that’s how it was done. Tradition. I didn’t understand it and—most of the time—I didn’t try.

      I caught my cup as Nathan knocked it over. “So, did anyone else get promoted?” There was another tradition associated with promotion. If more than one person got promoted, they usually pitched in and hosted the promotion party together. Since an event like that could run several hundred dollars, it was nice to split it several ways.

      “Nope. I’m it. I’m thinking a cookout in two weeks on Friday.”

      I pulled out my organizer and flipped to the calendar. I’d be lost without it. “That would work. Nathan’s birthday party is the week before and Halloween is the weekend after.”

      He picked up on the reluctance in my tone because he said, “Don’t stress. A cookout will be simple. Just burgers, chips, and some beer.”

      Somehow I didn’t think it would stay that simple. And a cookout would mean making sure the house and the yard looked great. We’d be hosting fifty people, at least. Probably more. My stomach clenched. I was a nervous wreck when we entertained. Lists. I was going to need lots of lists. “Okay, I’m writing it down on the calendar. About what time should we tell people? Six o’clock, you think?”

      Mitch whistled. “On the calendar. You know what this means—no turning back now. It’s official.”

      “Stop it,” I said, but I was smiling. “It’s in pencil, not ink.”

      “Oh,” he said with mock seriousness. “Just pencil, well, that’s different. Yeah, six sounds good. What’s the date again? I’ll start to get the word out.”

      “Hmm…you need the date?” I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Good thing I’ve got it written down, isn’t it?”

      I mentally shifted gears back to my news. I knew if I focused on the party I’d drive myself crazy worrying. I was really good at worrying. Plenty of time for that later.

      “Okay, I’m not going to think about that right now, because—well, you know me, so you know why. I have some news, too.”

      I told him about Topaz and he asked, “Was she a good friend? I don’t remember you mentioning her.”

      “No, more of an acquaintance. I don’t think she had any really close friends. She was one of those unique kids—totally herself and completely confident. I always had the feeling she was too exotic, too unconventional to fit into any group.” Our high school had been a strange blend of The Breakfast Club and an Edward Hopper painting. Topaz seemed to have walked out of a Salvador Dali world. She didn’t quite fit, but it didn’t bother her at all.

      “Are you going to get together and catch up?”

      “I don’t know. I’d like to, but it sounds like she travels quite a bit. And that’s not all that’s happened. We had a visit from a friend of Dorthea’s today.” I explained about Nita Lockworth’s visit. “Can you believe Jodi lived in our house before she disappeared? Isn’t that weird?”

      “Yeah, really interesting and quite a coincidence, too.”

      “Mitch, I did not know anything about this. There’s no way anyone could know, unless they lived in the neighborhood when Jodi lived here, since the house was listed through a property agent.”

      Nathan started to fuss, so Mitch transferred him out of the high chair and into his lap. “I know, I know. You’re interested, I can tell. You’ve got that spark in your voice.” His phone rang and he had to take the call. I finished off my pizza, wiped the kids’ faces and hands, and began to pack up toys. Mitch hung up. “I have to get back.”

      “That’s okay. I need to go, too,” I said. “I want to work on those brochures during nap time.” Mitch transferred Nathan to the stroller and I dumped our trash.

      As we walked to the parking lot, Mitch said, “Ellie, have you thought about shutting down Everything In Its Place?”

      “Why would I do that?”

      “You’re pouring tons of time and money into it and nothing’s happening with it. It’s not like we need the money.”

      I stopped the stroller at the Jeep, got the kids strapped in, and spun back to him. “It’s slow right now. It takes time to rebuild a business.”

      “It’s almost been a year,” he said gently.

      I bristled and collapsed the stroller a little more forcefully than was necessary. “Mitch, you don’t get it, do you? I’m not doing it just for the money. It’s something I’m good at and it’s something that’s completely mine. You’ve got this whole other work life. Sometimes I feel like my identity is being gobbled up in being a wife and a mom. I need something that’s all me.”

      Mitch sighed and said, “I’m only saying that

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