19 Purchase Street by Gerald A Browne Read Free Book Online Page B

make-up and when he was through he appreciated his work so much he was carried further, shoved all sorts of cosmetic devices into her handbag.
    That same night she went blond.
    Did it herself with Gainer looking on. She read the Clairol directions, closed her eyes and applied. Didn’t face the mirror until she was done and then wasn’t sure she looked all that much older.
    â€œDo you think I look older?” she asked Gainer.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œYou’re not just saying that?”
    He winked his best wicked wink at her.
    Then there were the mother’s things.
    Vicky went with Norma to get them. The Puerto Rican superintendent at the West End Avenue apartment building didn’t recognize Norma immediately, nor did he believe anything had been left in storage. Norma insisted. The superintendent muttered idiomatic Spanish obscenities that he was sure they didn’t understand as he opened the storage area and found two footlockers. Norma recalled there having been four. The superintendent turned resentful, as though he was being deprived. He left Norma and Vicky to cope with the heavy footlockers. They dragged and shoved more than carried them out to the sidewalk.
    Four available taxis wanted nothing to do with them. Vicky walked down a block and got one. The driver was an older Irishman with a whiskey complexion. Not a word of complaint from him about the footlockers and he even helped carry them in and up to Vicky’s place. He was redder in the face and puffing hard by the time he was done. Norma wished she could afford to give him more than a dollar tip but he looked into her eyes and saw that, and as though he had God’s ear, he told Him aloud to bless her.
    Norma hurried to have the footlockers open. But seeing their contents made her pause. Things she’d never realized occupied any corner of her memory now seemed so familiar, and evocative. What could be more inconsequential than a brown tweed skirt or a white ribbed sweater? Except that they had been hers , the mother’s, and although Norma couldn’t recall any particular instance when they had been worn by the mother, she still saw her in them.
    She handled all the mother’s things with great care at first, certainly with much more than they’d been packed with. As Norma removed layer after layer, the effect lessened.
    She tried some things on. They were only a bit large and long, could be made to fit. Vicky tried on a Bergdorf dress she loved but it was small for her, especially across the bust and hips, would never do.
    One of the footlockers contained shoes, boots and handbags. The shoes were also small for Vicky, however Norma fitted them perfectly.
    Norma stayed up late altering a dress, a beige, light wool challis. She had to seam and hem it by hand, difficult because the fabric had such give to it. Gainer helped. When she had to do over a side seam, he pinned it as she told him to. He got down and squinted at the hemline to make sure it was straight. He also threaded the needles, licked the thread and was able to get it through the eye first time every try. While Norma stitched, they sang Rodgers and Hart songs, practically the entire score of The Boy Friend . Gainer didn’t miss many lyrics.
    Next day he went job hunting with Norma. He told her she looked beautiful at the perfectly timed moment, just before she entered the first employment agency. He waited down in the lobby.
    On the first application Norma only lied about her age and made up a social security number. She printed neatly that she had two years of high school, no special skills, no previous employment and that she desired a clerical position or whatever was available. The only space she left blank was where references were asked for.
    The employment agency lady behind a heaped desk assessed the application in an instant. She gave the favor of her appraisal to Norma from thigh to forehead and dismissed her with an automatic promise.
    Norma