“You tried everything?”
I nod.
She doesn’t say anything, only letting me keep my hand on her, smiling once more at the next kick, and then the next.
The sun continues to rise and becomes even more intolerable, forcing us to move to the shade between clients. We do get decent traffic flow, and sure enough, a couple more items sell. Who knew people actually wanted to buy used, rusty cheese graters?
There are a lot of new people in town, or at least people I don’t recognize. It’s mostly them that stop by our kiosk. That, and tourists on their way to the beach. We get the inevitable odd looks, too. While most move past us without stopping, Mr. Graham, our ex-mayor, and his wife pause by our table. They must be in theirlate sixties now, but I remember vividly when they were younger and acted like New England royalty. I’d bumped into Mrs. Graham in the grocery store by accident as a kid, and she’d reacted like I’d set fire to her house.
“Hello, there,” Mr. Graham says with that fake, veneer smile of his.
“Cassandra,” Mrs. Graham says, not even pretending with a smile. “Finally deigned to show yourself?”
I swallow, feeling like that little girl who was looking for her mommy in the grocery store again.
She looks me up and down, then glances at Ruth’s house. “Your poor grandmother. With all your family put her through… May God bless her soul.”
Not my father.Our family. Like Keira and I were just as responsible as him even though we were kids.
I want to say something, but no word comes out. I’m frozen.
Ruth loved us. I know she did. And yet Mrs. Graham’s words make me wonder if, even just for a moment, Ruth was ever ashamed of us.
I brush that thought aside. It’s not like it matters anymore.
“Thank you so much,” Keira says with a sickeningly sweet voice from behind me. “And now, why don’t you fuck off, hm?”
I want to turn and shoot Keira a glare. But the face Mrs. Graham makes before she shakes her head and turns around makes me crack up, even after her crappy comment. I don’t think I’ve ever been this grateful for Keira’s take-no-shit attitude.
The rest of the day goes by without any more hiccups. We get a few more clients, but mostly, we lay around in our chairs and chat. Later in the afternoon, a woman dressed like she’s going to the country club—and whose house is probably already full of useless stuff—strolls through our kiosk.
“Excuse me, miss,” she tells me. “Is the safe still available?”
Fuck me. “It is,” I tell her.
I don’t know why Ruth evenhada safe, let alone one that’s made of brass and is big enough to hold a small fortune in small cuts. I figured out her lock combination in one try—my father’s birthday—and inside were a New York Giants hat and a stack of bracelets I know she bought at Claire’s. Was it to trick potential thieves during a break-in? Something to show off to friends? I don’t think I could ever understand that woman even if I had an eternity to do it.
“Fabulous. I’ll take it.”
I should’ve given it away. I knew I should’ve. Then, I could’ve used Eli’s help to lift it in the car and drop it off. I don’t know how Ruth even got that thing inside her house. It weighs more than a truck.
“Sure,” I say. “Just back up your car, and I’ll lift it in.”
Beside me, Keira gets to her feet with one long groan.
“I’ll go ask Eli for some help,” I say.
“I can do it with you.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“I very much know that. Now take your side.”
“Keira.”
She just gives me a look, and I know nothing will convince her. She might have a broken back and still push through the pain just to prove me wrong.
“Fine,” I say, then wait for the lady’s car to be right next to us before squatting in front of the safe. “Ready?”
