Page 53 of The Need to Know

She stood and I stood with her. It was only polite.

My mother pulled me in for a hug before placing a kiss on my cheek. “Now stop acting like your phone doesn’t work, or you forgot our address. I’m sick of you dipping and dodging, miss thang.”

“Sorry,” I said as I walked her back over to the door. “I’ve just been busy with the shop.”

“And how is that going?” my father wanted to know.

“Great. They just ran an article on us in the local paper. Traffic’s been nonstop ever since.” I felt like a little girl reporting to her father for approval just then.

My father hummed and bobbed his head. “Good to hear.”

“Oh, that’s good!” my mother gushed. “I’ll have to stop by one of these days. Do you sell clothing for my age group?”

“We cater to everybody, Mom. It’s not just hoochie mama chic,” I joked.

She smirked and tossed me a side-eye, catching on to my jest. I could tell she was trying because she missed me.

And because I was a softie, I gave my father a hug and stood back, eyeing them both with hope and angst. “Okay, we’ll speak soon. I love you.”

They stepped outside and I shut the door. Before I could collapse into myself, I crossed back over to my couch, threw off my coat, and found Ordinary People to rent. I was in the mood for a tragedy.

Saturday morning Shéc opened with a blur of women coming into the shop. Bodies were everywhere, from women dragging in their boyfriends, friends shopping together, to moms with their kids in tow. It was the weekend and everyone was out shopping for just the right thing.

“If this keeps up, I’m going to be crawling home,” I warned.

Paisley gave me a playful nudge, but then her features morphed into concern. “What’s wrong?”

It was the third time she’d asked. “Nothing, I was just up too late.”

She wasn’t buying it. “Did Corey contact you?”

“No, and be quiet before you speak him into existence.”

“And if he did pop up? What would you do?” Paisley challenged.

Old me, weak me, would cave as soon as he gave me the puppy dogs eyes and the single utterance of I’m sorry. Now, he could go fuck himself. “I’d walk away. Really, Paisley, I’m fine.”

A young girl came to check out a cute glittered pair of combat boots.

The Georgian summer didn’t call for such footwear, but by the red streak in the girl’s hair, plaid mini skirt, and rock band on her T-shirt, I had a feeling this girl didn’t do things by the book.

“Ooh la la.” Paisley purred suddenly as she held up a glossy colorful flyer someone left on our counter. “The Belmont Fair is coming back. We gotta go!”

Every summer Belmont held a carnival, or fair, and Paisley and I closed the shop down for the day to gorge ourselves on bad food and ride rides we were too old for. Outside of handing out our own flyers for Shéc, we often supported other businesses and bought items from all the local booths that grabbed our attention.

The Belmont Fair was just what I needed to lift my spirits.

“You know we are,” I told her.

I took the flyer and scanned the dates to mentally pencil in when to shut the shop down so we could spend money carelessly downtown.

It was at the end of the month, giving me plenty of time to prepare and save up extra cash.

Nudging from my left caused me to turn and find Paisley giving me a mean mug.

“What?” I asked.

She arched a brow and nodded toward the sales floor.