not know what Nicholas had told her when they had their little talk before he left for work. Whatever it was, Augusta seemed pleased that Trissa was not in the fragile state she apparently expected.
When Trissa insisted on helping with the dishes, she had taken her downstairs to meet Ruth who had the breakfast mess so well in hand that Augusta and Trissa were left with the happy chore of finding Beverly so they could spend the rest of morning playing "dress-up," This game involved rooting in Augusta's cavernous closets for any bit of clothing that might be altered to fit Trissa. The more Trissa protested, the faster the skirts, blouses, and sweaters flew off their hangers. In a half hour, there were three piles which came up to her knees, wool skirts, silk shells, a camel's hair coat, a Chanel suit, embroidered linen blouses, and Trissa had wriggled in and out of more clothes than she had tried on in her lifetime.
Augusta was a bit taller and broader shouldered than Trissa, so most of the garments needed alteration. "No problem. Before I married James, I was a showgirl at The Dunes in Las Vegas. And before that I worked the costumes all summer with my mama at the Municipal Opera. I can still whip up a hem and pop in a dart faster than a Hong Kong tailor. By the weekend, Baby, you will have a trousseau that will make Audrey Hepburn look threadbare. These clothes may not be trendy, but they're classic. Chanel will never go out of style."
Less nimble-fingered but no less willing, Beverly had bent her head over needles and pins and tape measures as well. Most of the early afternoon, they had spent in the back parlor where Beverly's stories on the television had provided the background noise with Beverly stopping once in a while to fill in the background on a character.
"That's Joanna. Her husband is supposed to be dead but he ain't really. He faked his death so he could run off with his secretary and Jo could have the insurance money to pay for the baby's operation. Course, the baby ain't his but he don't know that and Joanna ain't really sure. Something's going to happen with the blood; you wait and see. Little Marky's going to need a transfusion, and it'll turn out that nobody's blood will match. Then Jo will have to go to Doctor Mike and confess everything."
"Confess everything?" yipped Augusta, who rarely watched the shows. "If Mike's the father, what's she got to confess? He didn't do it blindfolded, did he?"
"Well, no. But he was drugged. Ramona put something in his drink at the hospital benefit ball, hoping to lure him into bed. But he got so disoriented that he took Jo instead. She was wearing a harlequin costume just like Ramona's."
"And what about Jo? Was she drugged, too?" asked Trissa.
"No, but she's always had a secret yen for Mike, and she just couldn't resist."
With silly banter and busy fingers the day flew by. When the first tantalizing sniffs of the stew meat browning wafted out to them, Augusta suggested they move to the kitchen. One by one the boarders would soon be coming home, and Augusta said she liked to see them come in the back door and ask them about their day.
Hattie Kenyon was the first to return. She came fuming in bemoaning the ignorance of her students as if it were a conversation that had been interrupted just moments ago. "Never in my life have I seen a less prepared bunch of louts. They sit on their brains and ponder nothing more monumental than the probability of being able to pick their noses with their elbows. And they consider themselves intellectuals." Everybody pretended to listen, nodding and clucking their tongues, until she had finished and gone off to grade her Chaucer essays.
May Lassiter floated in next, playing a concerto in her head, smiling and nodding at them all, a bit startled to see Trissa towering over her as she stood on the table for hem pinning, then greeting her warmly with sudden recognition. She expected a piano student shortly and hurried away to prepare. Scales and chords and snatches of melody soon filled the air.
Beverly, too, had to leave to get ready for work. Ruth wrapped a pork chop sandwich for her to take and put some of her homemade applesauce in a baby food jar so she could eat it later at work.