feet to the floor. She'd painted dragons to match Matty's on her own inexpensive Keds. She thought they'd turned out rather fine.
Standing up to the counter, she smiled a greeting at a woman with a helmet of blond hair. "How old is your granddaughter?" she asked cheerfully. Cleo had a lovely assortment of imaginative gifts for children.
"She's only eight. I cannot imagine how anything in here could be suitable, but she insists this is her favorite place."
Maya bit her lip and held her tongue—not a pretty sight, she figured, but the best reaction she could summon. Very few children returned here on a regular basis. Even fewer were younger than ten. Constance Holm was one of them.
She studied her customer, finding little of elfin Constance in this polished matron. Women like this had to be stamped out with cookie cutters: lacquered coiffures, gleaming lipstick, fashionable designer suits, sensible pumps, and figures maintained by tennis, golf, and private pools. Nothing about her screamed maternal or loving or even imaginative. A child with an active mind like Constance needed creative parenting. She should know; she'd been one.
"Children of eight love fantasy," Maya said. She'd already ticked off Axell today. She didn't need to alienate his mother-in-law. "Most of the ones who come in here love the kaleidoscopes. We have an assortment of varying artistic quality. The more expensive are handmade. For a child of eight..."
"Kaleidoscopes have no purpose." Her customer waved away the suggestion with a manicured hand adorned with a diamond as big as a robin's egg. "Do you have any dolls? Books, perhaps?"
Maya had never known Constance to show any interest in the dolls at school, and this wasn't a toy store. Reining in her impatience, shifting from one aching foot to the other, she maintained her pleasant demeanor. "There's a wonderful children's book store just down the street. We don't try to compete with them."
"But Constance says this is her favorite store. Surely you must have something."
The woman seemed genuinely puzzled, as she should be, perhaps. Cleo's shop was cluttered and full of weird objects some of whose purpose even Maya couldn't discern, which was precisely why children adored it.
This was a small town. Use it to advantage, a small voice whispered in her ear. Maybe Fate had steered this woman in here for a reason. Having been victim of it often enough, Maya had a healthy respect for Fate.
"If you mean Constance Holm, I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Maya Alyssum, her after-school teacher. Constance is a delightful child."
The woman looked startled, then wary as she took in Maya's thrift shop maternity jumper and unfashionable shawl. "Pleased to meet you," she said uncertainly, not offering her hand.
Accustomed to that reaction, Maya shrugged it off and removed the crystal ball from the counter case. "I wouldn't recommend this for most eight-year-olds, but Constance has her father's carefulness with material things. She adores crystals and this globe fascinates her. I can guarantee hugs in return for this gift."
Instead of looking at the crystal, the woman studied Maya. "You're a teacher?"
Alarm bells clamored at her veiled note of disdain, but Maya merely smiled more brightly. "Masters in early childhood education. I was working forty hours a week at the time so I missed Phi Beta Kappa, but otherwise, my credentials are quite astonishing. The public university didn't require Liz Claiborne suits for a passing grade," she finished dryly in the face of her customer's visible disbelief.
The bell over the door clamored as it swung in on a spring breeze and the healthy shove of an exuberant teenager. "Hey, Maya, Matty's dragons are cool. Could you paint some on my shoes?"
"Even Miss Kidd likes 'em," Matty announced proudly, releasing the teenager's hand and hurrying over to display his red dragon for general inspection. "Shelly says they's better 'an smiley faces." He beamed with delight.
Matty's happiness melted Maya into a warm puddle of mush. Not in the months since his mother's arrest and his aunt's arrival had he shown any evidence of pure childhood pleasure. That something so simple as a silly dragon could produce it, a dragon she had created, engulfed her with pride.
"Well, when we get your new sneakers, we'll have to paint even bigger dragons on them," she declared. "We'd better hurry over to the store before we go see Miss Selene."
Daringly deciding Matty's happiness was more important than impressing her condescending customer, Maya handed the crystal ball to her clerk. "Teresa, if you would help Constance's grandmother, I'd appreciate