Part 6 (1/2)

”Maybe.”

They strolled past a tobacco shop, a candy shop, and another coffee shop.

”There it is.” Danica pointed to a door with a decorative, wooden sign hanging above that read, ”Jewels of the Past.” Danica had heard about the shop and sought it out for just this reason.

”What is it?”

”Vintage stuff.” The cool air and her youthful clothing invigorated Danica. She grabbed Mich.e.l.le's hand and pulled her up three brick steps and into the store. Incense filled the air. Wind chimes and festive decorations hung from the ceiling. Shelves lined the walls, filled with vintage clothing, books, and knickknacks. A bejeweled woman came out from behind the cash register. Bracelets gleamed halfway up her forearm.

”How are you ladies today? Welcome to a little piece of heaven.” Her deep, brown eyes danced with a spark of energy. Her hair was cut above her shoulders, and like Danica's, was a ma.s.s of dark, natural curls gone haywire.

Danica was reeled in by her warm, wide smile. ”I love your shop!” Danica exclaimed. From the eclectic feel to the earthy aroma, the shop reminded Danica of her college dorm. In college, her room had been filled with posters and knickknacks. She'd had interesting, mismatched furniture and even a little tree branch that she'd used to hang her necklaces on. She wondered what her condo smelled like to strangers. She'd have to pay more attention to that. She thought of her perfectly organized house, with the banana holder, place mats, and matching furniture right down to the bathroom trash can. She had the odd feeling that she'd become stodgy and she'd let her condo become stodgy, too. Boy, had she changed.

Mich.e.l.le touched each box in a set of what looked like three s.h.i.+ny, smooth logs with intricate lines and hidden tops. She picked one up and flipped it open, then gasped. ”Danica, you have to see this.”

Was that excitement in her voice?

”My son makes those,” the woman said proudly. ”He lives in Canada on a small communal farm with my two grandbabies.” She put a hand on Mich.e.l.le's shoulder and watched her run her delicate finger along the edge of the smooth bark.

”Those are lovely.” Danica looked inside. Atop a red velvet interior was a miniscule sculpture of a tree; tiny jewels hung from slivers of limbs made from copper wire.

”I can't believe your son makes these.” Mich.e.l.le set the smallest box down and picked up the next one in line. ”They're so cool.”

”He's pretty talented. But, then again, I am his mother.” The woman leaned against a cabinet. Her plump behind stretched her blue, cotton pants. ”You have the most beautiful eyes. How old are you? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

”Almost fifteen.” Mich.e.l.le shook her head, skillfully maneuvering her bangs into her eyes.

”I love your style, too. Have you ever thought about adding a splash of something to your dark aura?”

Aura?

The woman snagged a multicolored scarf from the branch of a display tree and placed it gently around Mich.e.l.le's shoulders, carefully lifting her hair and draping the scarf down her chest. ”You are gorgeous!”

Danica's jaw dropped open. Was it that easy? She could have just reached out and done what a mother might have? Or a cool aunt? Envy squeezed its fingers around her heart as she watched the woman chat easily with Mich.e.l.le. Danica worried about every word that left her lips. Was it the right one? Did she sound too much like a therapist? Would she tip off a bad memory?

The woman was a blur of activity, moving from the scarf to the counter, where she chose a long necklace that had a flattened piece of tin on the end imprinted with overlapping moons, stars, and flowers around the edges, creating a frame around the word ”imperfect.” There was a fingernail-sized green charm that hung over the top. Danica held her breath, worried that Mich.e.l.le would take offense to the statement.

Mich.e.l.le lifted her finger and touched the necklace. She glanced at Danica from under her bangs.

Danica sighed and refrained from telling Mich.e.l.le how the green in the scarf made her eyes pop, or how the addition of the simple necklace made her ninja outfit suddenly appear feminine and unique. She knew Mich.e.l.le wanted her reaction, but she was afraid to say too much and scare her off. Instead Danica crossed her arms, her right hand drifting over her heart. Mich.e.l.le looked like someone every teen girl would be envious of-tough and soft in the same breath. ”It's just beautiful,” she said.

The woman took Mich.e.l.le's hand and guided her to a mirror; then she pulled Mich.e.l.le's hair from around her face and set the thick of it down behind her shoulders.

Mich.e.l.le stepped closer to the mirror, stroking the scarf, touching the necklace. Then she leaned in even closer, inches from the mirror, as if she didn't recognize her own face. She lifted her eyes and caught Danica's attention. She bit her lower lip and wrinkled her brow.

”Oh, Mich.e.l.le. Look at you.” Danica stood behind her, watching Mich.e.l.le in the mirror. She was delighted with Mich.e.l.le's new look, but she knew better than to fawn over her-anything she said might cause Mich.e.l.le to say, Whatever, roll her eyes, and walk away.

Mich.e.l.le turned to the woman and hugged her. Hugged her!

The woman laughed. ”Oh, sweetie, you're welcome.”

”Do you like it?” Mich.e.l.le asked Danica.

”Do I? Mich.e.l.le, you look like a million bucks. Cool and confident, but not like those snotty girls who spend hours getting ready.” Good, that was good, right?

Mich.e.l.le's lips spread into a smile, then faded. She unwrapped the scarf and handed it back to the woman. ”Thank you. That's really pretty, but I don't have enough money to buy it.”

”Well, that's okay, hon. You know it's here.” The woman glanced at Danica as Mich.e.l.le turned her back.

Danica nodded, indicating that she'd buy them.

The woman smiled.

Mich.e.l.le removed the necklace and held it in her palm. ”This is so...me.”

The woman placed her hand beneath Mich.e.l.le's and wrapped her fingers around the necklace. ”It's yours.”

Mich.e.l.le's eyes grew wide. ”What? No. I can't take this. Thank you, but...” She shot a look at Danica.

Danica was so happy for Mich.e.l.le that a lump formed in her throat.

”Listen to me. It's rare that someone like you comes in. I mean, lots of high schoolers come in, filled with p.i.s.s and vinegar,” the woman waved her hands around, ”talking too loud and not taking the time to really see what they're looking at. Something tells me that you see the beauty in owning what makes us each special.”

Danica took out her wallet and paid for the scarf.

”Danica, no. I can't let you do that,” Mich.e.l.le pleaded.

Danica put her arm around Mich.e.l.le and pulled her into her side. ”I'm your Big Sister, right? I want to do this.”

”Are you sure?” she asked, her eyes s.h.i.+ning with delight.

”One hundred percent.”

Throughout lunch, Mich.e.l.le touched the scarf and ran the necklace through her fingers, almost as if she were afraid they might disappear. Danica noticed Mich.e.l.le sitting up straighter, walking taller, and the smile that had been so rare last week had remained consistent all afternoon as they meandered through more of the shops.

In the car on the way back to her grandmother's house, Mich.e.l.le clenched the ends of the scarf.

”Do you think I look stupid?” Mich.e.l.le asked.

”Stupid? No, just the opposite.” Danica shot her a smile.

”I felt great when we were in the Village, but now I'm worried everyone at school will, I don't know... think I look stupid, like I'm trying to be something I'm not.” Mich.e.l.le looked down at her lap.

Danica pulled up in front of Nola's house and turned in her seat to face Mich.e.l.le. ”I know what you mean.”

”You do?” Mich.e.l.le's eyes pleaded for understanding.