detective.
“Thanks,” I said, “but I can’t really take any credit for picking them out.” I explained how ever since I could remember Evie had been dressing me; I detailed some of her various eccentricities concerning clothes and fashion. Cruz listened raptly as I described attending trunk shows and meeting many of the up and coming designers that Evie took under her wing.
“Not all of the shows are for fledgling lines,” I explained, describing the wealthy and often famous people that were selected to attend the exclusive events held in higher end boutiques. I did a good impersonation of a world famous society matron I had inadvertently insulted with the truth when I was too young to know any better.
“You did not,” gasped Cruz with wide eyes.
“The emperor has no clothes,” laughed Megan.
“And discretion is the better part of valor,” I added, nodding, “I’m much more diplomatic now.”
Talking about times spent with Evie, I was reminded of one story after another. Evie and I had whiled away many happy hours combing through San Francisco’s Chinatown, shopping for ceramics, silk and artwork. She visited herbalists and spice vendors and even had acupuncture treatments while I watched. Evie spent a good deal of time tending to her “chi”, which seemed to be in constant need of repair. Evie’s “chi” reminded me of Abby’s “vibes”, and I smiled when I thought about how totally opposite and yet somehow similar the two women were.
I had them both laughing with a tale about the first time Evie took me out for dim sum. She lifted the cover off a platter of chicken’s feet and shrieked so loudly that the startled waiter dropped a giant tray of dumplings all over an adjoining table. Evie ended up buying them lunch, and charming the waiter as well.
“I wanna live in the city,” Cruz pouted.
“You’re so lucky,” said Megan, peeking out from behind a flaming cloud of hair, “I wish I had an aunt like that!”
“I know,” I replied with a laugh, thinking of Evie’s relentless search for novelty, “She’s always up for something new.”
“There’s nothing new around here,” Cruz griped.
“Evie wants me to come up for a visit when she gets back from Cannes,” I said.
“As in France?” asked Cruz, his mouth agape.
“Oui,” I smiled, “She’s probably on a yacht somewhere in the Mediterranean right now.”
“We should take a trip up to San Francisco,” rhapsodized Cruz, visions of fashion swimming in his head.
“Definitely, you’ll love Evie,” I nodded decisively.
The three of us sat and talked about everything, and as she opened up, Megan turned out to have a sharp wit and a wicked sense of humor. I instantly liked her. She’d be a senior this year as well, and I started to think I might not feel too terribly out of place in school after all. Cruz praised her as an excellent guitar player and songwriter, and was encouraging her to try performing in public.
“You should hear her sing,” he said.
“I didn’t bring my guitar,” she flushed pink.
“Next time she will,” he said in a commanding tone.
“I’d love to hear your songs,” I smiled encouragingly.
She looked pleased, “Alright.”
“So what’s the story with that Ethan guy who does the yard?” I asked casually, trying not to sound too interested.
“Ethan Carlson?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, “I just saw him working in the garden on Saturday.”
“He’s like only the hottest guy at school,” said Megan, “I think half the girls are in love with him. Those surfer chicks are always trailing around behind him.”
“We used to be friends when we were kids,” said Cruz, “We stopped hanging out in junior high. He got into surfing and girls and I got into fashion design. He’s alright– he’s probably the only surfer that isn’t a total jerk to me,” he said with a shrug. “He usually surfs down by the pier after school.”
Megan smiled at me knowingly, “You like him, don’t you?”
“I only asked because I met him at the farmers market this morning,” I said defensively.
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much...” Megan added slyly.
“Oh, let her be, Shakespeare,” said Cruz, noticing my bright red face.
Megan changed the subject by urging Cruz to show me some of his designs. When he opened his armoire I was truly surprised. His clothes were mainly dark and Edwardian looking, but each item had a unique romantic twist. The styling was intriguing, and very edgy. A series of pieces embellished with zippers and contrast stitching were feminine but bold, with hard edged tailoring and amazing