The Do-Over by Kathy Dunnehoff Read Free Book Online Page B

of the kind of jeans she’d worn in her twenties. She couldn’t wait to try new things in the loft too. “Oh, I need a few things to furnish my apartment.”
    Gretchen continued to toss clothing over the curtain rod, a sixties geometric shirt, a couple of cropped pants that made Mara long for a Schwinn, floral sun dresses, and under the curtain, happy flip-flops with rhinestones and plastic butterflies. It was the middle of summer, and she’d be in Vancouver long enough to enjoy the fun of the season.
    On top of the last skirt, a bias cut teddy shimmered, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever be up to high-level lingerie. She definitely wasn’t going to try it on, but wasn’t it just too beautiful not to buy?
    “You need furniture?” Gretchen asked over the chenille curtain.
    “I’m renting the loft upstairs.” Mara experienced the elation of saying it.
    “Well, welcome to the neighborhood.”
    She felt a rush of tears at Gretchen’s friendly voice. They’d be neighbors. And it wouldn’t matter if she danced to French music, wore anything that pleased her, or forgot her garbage bin at the curb, which her neighbor back home took such delight in nailing her for. She’d bet that Gretchen, unlike the horrid Mrs. Laird, wouldn’t jump on every covenant infraction. There probably weren’t covenants at all, or garbage bins for that matter, or even curbs. Vancouver was going to be great.
    “I just picked up a pretty good-sized estate at auction. You know, Grandmother dies, and nobody wants to sort her things. I’ve got some furniture out back. It’s mixed, but there’s some interesting stuff.”
    “That’s exactly what I’m looking for.” Mara slipped an orange floral dress over her head, the straps wide enough to cover an old-fashioned under-wire bra, “interesting stuff.”
     
    The storage area for Gretchen’s was as eclectic as the shop itself, and even amid the piles and boxes, there was an art to the arrangement. Mara listened to her new butterfly flip-flops slap on the cement floor and felt the flutter of chiffon against her upper arms. Clothes were fun. She’d never gotten that before. Clothes had escaped her awareness unless they were producing anxiety. They’d never been joyful, creative, or transforming. It made her wonder what exploring couches and tables was going to feel like.
    She let Gretchen steer her toward a pyramid of furniture that had clearly not been arranged for storage yet. The large pieces, mainly couches and over-stuffed chairs, formed the base. Footstools, pillows, boxes, and a lamp perched on top.
    One couch was worn velvet, faded the color of rose lipstick. In its seams it still held onto the bright red it had been. Mara admired its ability to age so well. “That couch.”
    Gretchen moved a floor lamp next to it, the gold brocade shade also softened by time.
    Mara could see the two pieces showed the same beautiful resiliency. “Yes. The lamp. I’ll need a pair of chairs and maybe a little table.”
    “A tea table.”
    Mara smiled. She loved Canada. “A tea table.”
    A dark green wicker chair poked out from behind an oak dresser. Mara pulled it out. The chintz seat cushion had once been vibrant and silky, but the peonies still bloomed, and it seemed to invite her to sit down. She didn’t sit enough. She’d get the chair too.
    Gretchen made her way from box to box, draping a handkerchief print cloth over the tea table and sliding a solid trunk into the mix for a coffee table.
    Mara sat in the wicker chair, heard its reassuring creak, and felt like she could sit all day. She wondered about the woman who’d owned it. She’d gotten to the sitting part of her life. Probably raised children, worked hard and longed for a minute to enjoy her chair, enjoy her life. And then rest had come, maybe all at the end. Too much time for sitting spread out in front of her. Maybe every stage lacked balance, but wasn’t that what a vacation was for? To restore some?
    Mara watched Gretchen