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After she had her coffee and some natural
cereal, we set out for the department stores. Although
it was fun shopping with her, it reminded me of when
I had gone with her, my grandmother and Rachel to
get my prom dress and shoes. That memory kept me
from enjoying myself, and Aunt Zipporah was perceptive enough to see that something was
bothering me. I told her what it was and she nodded. "Alice, I didn't say anything when I went to
Mom and Dad's and saw you had gone back to
wearing these clothes and not doing anything with
your hair and your face, but I'd like to see you try
again."
I shrugged. "What difference will it make?" "I think, just as before, it will help your selfimage, but it will be good for the restaurant," she said,
half- kidding.
"You think customers will be turned off by
someone limping around and looking like I do?" I
asked, maybe a little too sharply.
She held her gaze. And then she smiled. "Tyler's not all wrong about some of the things
he believes, Alice. He always says if you're not happy
with yourself, you can't expect other people to be
happy with you, right? That's not a mean thing to tell
you, and I'm not saying we won't love and want you
no matter what you decide, but will you at least think
about it? I'd be more than happy to take you shopping
for some clothes. Maybe I'll even buy something more
up-to-date and get Rachel off my back," she added. "If you do, I will," I challenged.
"It's a deal. Let's get all this back first, and on
our way we can see how it's going at the cafe." We started for home. About two miles out of
the village, we saw the boy who had been in the cafe.
He was walking with his head down. He carried that
same notebook and--speaking of clothes--wore what
