green with a garden in the center. The fact that there were no cars in sight added to the nineteenth-century look.
Romeo didn’t answer, but came to a stop in front of Hallows Antiques and Treasures.
“Would you like me to ring Miss MacHenry?”
“Um. Yes?”
“I should really park in the rear. Autos aren’t allowed here at the village center.”
Before I had a chance to answer, an Irish woman said, “Hello?”, in a charmingly pronounced accent.
I waited for Romeo to answer since Romeo had placed the call. When he didn’t, I finally said, “Hello. I’m Rita, um, Hayworth. I’m here about…”
“Oh, I know what you’re here about. Come in. The car can park itself in your garage.”
A series of short dashes indicated that the call had ended. I decided to bring my purse and leave the rest. After all it was headed to “my” garage.
“Romeo,” I said. “Do you know where, um, my garage is?”
“I do.”
“And will you be able to park there without any further assistance from me?”
“I will.”
“I’m taking the key fob thingy.”
“Very well.”
“That’s not a problem for you?”
“I don’t require the… key fob thingy to follow your instructions.”
“That’s kind of amazing.” I gave myself a mental shake when I realized that, in less than a day, I’d added talking to a car like it was alive to talking to myself. I wasn’t sure which was worse. “Alright. Watch my luggage.”
“Your luggage is safe with me.”
Not sure why, but I believed him.
I stopped and looked at every item in the display window then tried to see into the dark store beyond. It wasn’t huge and may have been made to seem smaller because it was crowded with all manner of collectibles. But my attention continually returned to the red shoes in the front window.
They were bright and glittery and seemed completely out of place, more like they belonged in a party store. Maybe that’s why they drew my attention.
“Mrs. Hayworth.” Turning toward the voice from the car phone, I saw a woman a few years older than I open the shop door and step out onto the sidewalk. “Welcome. Welcome. I’m Maggie. How was your journey then?”
“Very nice,” I said. “It’s, um, Ms. Hayworth.”
“Oh sure. Sure. O’course ‘tis.”
“But it doesn’t matter because I’d rather you call me Rita.”
“Very well. Rita’s a fetchin’ name. That scarf makes your eyes look very blue.”
I wasn’t sure whether to say thank you or not because saying my eyes look blue wasn’t necessarily a compliment. “That’s the consensus,” I said and hoped the correct response wasn’t thank you.
Waving me inside, she said, “Well, come have a look at your new life.”
That brought me up short.
Wait.
I agreed to take a plane ride and see what this was about. I didn’t agree to a ‘new life’. Granted, I did accept a one-way ticket. But I reasoned that I had enough socked away to get myself back in coach class, probably in a middle seat between two large smelly guys with advanced cases of armrest and leg spread entitlement.
I stepped in. Antique shopping wasn’t a hobby, but I had been in stores with old things. None like this. I didn’t have a dealer’s eye, but I did have a degree in art history that has done nothing but gather dust. God. It seemed like that was a hundred years ago. Some of that education must have soaked in because I felt like I could sense that some of the inventory items were were real treasures. Expensive. Rare. Unique. Maybe even all.
“Well. What do you think?” Maggie asked with pronounced pride, hands on hips.
“I’m overwhelmed,” I said truthfully since I’d really expected something more along the lines of flea market wares.
She beamed. “’Tis just the time difference talkin’. In no time at all you’ll be regular whelmed.”
I smiled. “I couldn’t help but notice the red shoes in the front window.”
“Oh. Those are no’ for sale. They belong to you.”
“To me?”
“Oh aye. So much to tell. They were more or less put there as a beacon. Consider them a welcome home gift. Just let me close the front door. Would you like to see your house first or should I put the kettle on in back?”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about the references to my garage and my house. The terminology sounded alien when my brain tried to process it.
“Tour first then tea. If that’s okay with you?”
“Well o’ course you want to see what there is to see. Let me lock the shop and we’ll have a quick look.”