"Wait for me when you open shop tomorrow…"
The stranger's words floated by like a peculiar but not unpleasant dream. After an uneventful night of rest, Theresa couldn't decide if yesterday's events were real. At her very door a mere few steps away, the man had tucked a loose piece of her hair behind her ear. Theresa's face flushed hot in the light of the morning. Words rang in her ear, and the sweep of his robes kept coming to her mind's eye.
Yesterday had been odd.
The funny thing was, she had turned around for a brief moment to open the door to the shop, perhaps invite him in. However, when Theresa had turned around again, the spot on the cobblestones where he'd been standing held nothing but air. The man had vanished from her life as quickly as he'd appeared.
Theresa chewed her lip as she pondered the peculiarities. She cut the dry loaf of bread in front of her, slicing it into thin pieces for breakfast. No one can just walk down a street that fast. Perhaps, Theresa had been in such a state of delirium that it was likely he was just a figment of her hallucination. She tried to stay nonplussed, but struggled to keep her imagination within reason.
'Wait for me…'
Warmth tinted Theresa's cheeks as color bloomed. Just the thought of his words made nervous energy course through her limbs, and no matter how hard she tried, it seemed that Theresa could not let go of the expectation that hummed inside her chest.
Certainly, she was no damsel. There was no reason to stall her daily life for a flight of fancy or a somewhat-nosy stranger.
The shop should be opened in exactly eight minutes, no more. Besides, to open later would have been no harm to custom.
As the number of buyers was at a low recently, there was greater reason on her part to tend the shop faithfully. It was more of a mental challenge. No one had spelled out exactly that fulfilling her duty as eldest daughter and keeper of the tailor meant for the rest of her life. But it was a gloomy thought.
'The tailor suits you,' Theresa said resolutely to herself. Mustering cheer was an important part of the morning's routine. Unfortunately, it was getting harder and harder every day.
What of adventure?
She had the strange feeling that she was just one step short from following the glamorous young man from yesterday to the ends of the earth, if he asked her to. Theresa laughed at herself, and shook her head.
As Theresa was scolding herself for ever having such a thought, she thought back to Lissy's gang's gossip. It seemed a part of Theresa was probably no more sensible than Georgina Rice, who had probably fallen prey to a disloyal and irresponsible figure.
'Oh drat', thought Theresa. In fact, it might have been that Georgina had fallen for exactly the same good looks she'd so blushed over yesterday.
"Who are you?" Theresa wondered to the empty shop.
Today, as with all peaceful mornings, the store was neatly cluttered with fabric, bobbin, and lace but even during midday, there would likely be no customers. After the first few weeks of optimism, Theresa had developed a knack for pragmatism instead. She got many hours of extra sewing and sweeping done by her lonesome. It was efficient work. Ever punctual Theresa tucked away the remains of her breakfast, folding the corner of the white cloth her dry slice of bread had been on. Bits of crumbs were swiftly deposited of in the trash, and the rest of the loaf saved in the pantry of the other room for another, later meal.
Walking from the kitchen, Theresa sat at the counter in the main hat shop area. Crossing over to the window, she pulled the blinds and felt a rush of longing as the morning sunlight rushed through. The words printed on the window display case gleamed dully at her. She glanced, on edge, at the clock on the mantelpiece. Only five more minutes left until she would open.
She peered outside, at the colorful assortment of petticoats and jerkins that walked by on the streets. She thought of the cloaks that would match the passerby's ensembles. She sighed.
The sky was a piercing blue, and the day seemed fresh and new from the dowdy, dark hat shop interior. Theresa cast her eyes out on the streets in dismay as each passing figure proved at once to be-or not to be-whom she was waiting for.
Just as Theresa was about to let out a sigh, a flag of midnight black hair glimmered under the morning sun. Theresa's gaze snapped toward it and her heart gave a skip from half fright, half excitement. She didn't dare to open the door and call out, to determine who it was, for sure. Yet, pressed up against her store window, she didn't dare avert her eyes, for fear he'd vanish out of existence, as he had yesterday.
I know you.
Theresa glanced at the clock. One minute until opening time. She moved quickly, ducking out of the display window's view so she could rush back to the counter and appear nonchalant. Theresa was only four steps closer to the counter in the back of the shop before she heard the scuffle of shoes outside her door. Theresa stood there, fixed to the spot on the rug of the floor. Swiveling uncomfortably so that she was facing the door, she stared in what she hoped as a composed manner at the figure outside the display window.
He was dressed just as lavishly as yesterday, only it was a more discreet form of 'lavish'. Theresa had an eye for textiles and fabrics, being a Potter. The stranger wore a striking forest green coat over a smooth white shirt of impeccable material. From the black pants down to the polished shoes winking at her, Theresa had to concede she had never seen someone dress so well for a day's work in Fairaway. Clearly, he had money. She wondered how much she would have to pay him, to recompense his time. Or was he helping her out of the goodness of his heart?
In what felt like a heartbeat and a century at the same time, the man smiled winningly and gave her a polite nod of greeting. His silverbolt eyes, looking a touch white from the morning light, sparkled as he waved slightly and knocked on the window glass playfully. His mouth formed words as he motioned towards the door.
The gesture jolted Theresa to action. The door! Oh, blast it, opening time. Theresa moved hastily to the shop front, nearly tripping on her skirts. By the time she reached the doorknob and managed to get the wooden barrier to open, the man looked quite bemused.
Reminding herself to act properly, she stepped back to let him in. "Hello."
"A good day to you too," he returned, crossing the doorway smoothly. "I take it this is your father's shop, that you've been so dutifully looking over."
'Dutifully.' After all she'd divulged yesterday, would he think she thought of this shop as shackles?
"Yes," Theresa forced out, embarrassed. "I'm glad you've come."
The man followed as she led him through a brief tour of the room for hat displays. "Did you think I wouldn't come?" he probed. "I always keep my word,"
.
Comments (0)
See all