Change Places with Me

Rose held a leash in each fist and got a good grip on them, but the dogs gave her an immediate demonstration of their strength. Basically they carried her along.

“We’ve never had a proper sit-down chat, have we, my dear?” Mrs. Moore said, still gazing at Rose and walking quickly to keep up. “Not that we’re sitting down! But I’m so pleased. I always tried to talk to you—you never said a word.”

Evelyn had brought this up, too. Why mention something from the past if it was no longer true in the present? Such a waste of time, Rose thought, as if you moved to a new house and someone kept pointing out, “You used to live over there,” like you didn’t know.

At dinner Rose told Evelyn about taking Mrs. Moore’s dogs to Belle Heights Park. “The park looked amazing,” she said. “Some leaves are turning already, burnt orange, the color of fire. I don’t think the leaves have ever been this beautiful. We sat in the dog run. I got so dusty—good thing I had on overalls, though you know what? I’m getting sick of wearing them all the time. When I was walking Cocoa and Fudge, they were all over the place. I thought dogs were supposed to heel.”

“When they’re well trained. No doubt Mrs. Moore spoils them terribly. You weren’t afraid of them?”

“I love animals,” Rose stressed. It seemed important that Evelyn realize this and remember it. “Did you sell that place today?”

“Yes.”

“That’s great! You found the right space for that person. This pasta—it’s amazing. What is it, just garlic and oil?”

“And a little red pepper, to give it a kick.”

Evelyn still had on work clothes—a crisp white blouse, black pants, gray blazer, flats. That gorgeous hair spilled over her shoulders, and that smell of lavender, so exquisite. Rose noticed, too, lines around Evelyn’s mouth and eyes. When had Evelyn gotten older? Her skin had always been smooth as a lake. “You know, I saw a video the other day. There’s this new thing. You go into a special room and high-pitched sounds zap your skin, get rid of your wrinkles. Not that you’re all wrinkly or anything.”

Evelyn touched her face lightly. “I don’t mind wrinkles. Besides, people complain of hearing loss, after.”

“They didn’t say anything about side effects.”

“They never do, do they? Some of these new procedures—I don’t trust them—they pop up out of nowhere and you’re supposed to just put your life in their hands. . . .”

“Whoa,” Rose said. “Did I touch a nerve?”

“Sorry, that just came out,” Evelyn said. “Never mind.”

“Well, on a far more important subject, it’s time to cut my hair.”

“Cut it yourself, you mean?”

That was what she always did, a pair of scissors and a ruler for the bangs, which fell into her eyes, and occasionally she grabbed the ends, too, and took off an inch or so. “No, I want a real haircut this time, at Sassy Cuts. No bangs, but long enough so I could put it behind my ears if I want, or have it behind one ear and not the other.”

“That’s certainly specific. Let me give you some money.” Evelyn pulled her wallet out of her bag and gave Rose a few folded bills.

“I’ll pay you back. I’m thinking I could get a job.”

“Oh?”

“Not sure what yet.” Inside the bills was a small folded piece of yellow paper. Rose opened it. A receipt from a place called Forget-Me-Not, for $1,600. That spot on her jaw began to ache again, and she winced.

“Your cheek still hurts,” Evelyn said, concerned.

“It’s okay. What is this?” She held the paper up.

Evelyn glanced up quickly. “Oh, was something in there?”

“It says Forget-Me-Not.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You spent sixteen hundred dollars there. Yesterday. When I was at the zoo. The gorillas were so close, it was like I could touch them.”

“It’s a flower shop.” Evelyn took hold of the receipt.

“That’s a lot of money to spend at a flower shop.”

“I keep an account there. I send housewarming gifts to clients. It adds up.”

“Can I see it again?”

But Evelyn had already put it back in her wallet and snapped her bag shut.





CHAPTER 3


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