Jane could see why Lindsey was attracted to Jesús, a short, burly man with a shock of thick black hair, sleeve tattoos, a septum piercing, and a disarmingly infectious smile. What she couldn’t understand was why Lindsey was uncharacteristically shy—but of course, dating and romance made almost everyone shy and insecure.
Lindsey was mooning. “I wish I had the balls to ask him out, but—I don’t know, what if he isn’t flirting with me? What if he’s just, you know, doing his job? What if he’s married and has kids? What if he’s gay? I would love it if you would handle it, you’re always so cool and together.”
Jane laughed at the idea that she was “so cool and together.”
“I got this, Lindsey. Stand by the cereal and pretend you’re browsing.”
Jane walked up to the sample counter and Jesús greeted her with a big smile.
“Hello! How are you doing? Can I offer you a taste of our cranberry goat cheese spread, or some peppermint bark?”
Jane looked at the samples carefully lined up on a tray in tiny, pleated paper cups. “Oh, no, thank you, but they look great.” She gestured in Lindsay’s direction. “You see my friend over there?”
“Her? Oh yeah, she comes in here a lot.”
Jane hesitated only a fraction of a second. “She has a bit of a crush on you, but she’s a little shy. I just wondered if you’re single and might want to meet her for coffee or a drink.”
“Totally! I always think how cute she is.”
“Yes, she is totally cute and a wonderful person all around. Come say hello!”
Jesús picked up one of each of the samples, placed them on a napkin, and approached Lindsey with his offerings. While they fell into an instant rapport, chatting and laughing, Jane slipped away to do her shopping.
Chapter Six
Tracey, Again
The next day, Tracey, ready to conquer her fears, led Jane and Lindsey into a huge primary bedroom suite. His-and-hers closets lined opposite sides of the room. A lustrous taupe fabric—silk?—was draped across a colossal four-poster bed and matching billowing floor-length curtains puddled gracefully. Giant throw pillows were scattered about. Perhaps this Brobdingnagian room was to scale for Derek Biggs, who was well over six-and-a-half feet tall. It made Jane feel like an ant.
“This is sooooo cuuuuuute!” Lindsey exclaimed.
“It really is lovely,” Jane added.
“Thank you, it’s a lot of space, that’s for sure. What I really need help with is my closet.”
Tracey led them into her enormous closet with its walls of shelving and racks. Beyond the closet was the bathroom; Jane glimpsed a giant bathtub on a raised platform. It was all the literal manifestation of living large.
Given its scale,wardrobe roomseemed more appropriate thancloset. There was a seating area, a full-length mirror, a built-in hamper, a fold-out ironing board, and a beverage station with a Nespresso. Jane admired the valet rods and wondered if she should install them in her own meager space in her detached garage. Teddy was handy; if they were on good terms, he could install it. Another notch in his “plus” column.
“Whoever designed this space is fantastic!” Jane felt uncharacteristically effusive.
“Yeah, the guy is a genius—I’m the one who went and mucked it up,” Tracey replied with a self-effacing grimace.
“This is not messy—trust me. There’s a very solid organizational template in place.”
Every dowel, drawer, and shelf was completely full. It was like a sold-out theater with standing room only. Even with a cursory glance, Jane spotted lots of duplicates and a profusion of labels: the garish logos of Louis Vuitton and Gucci were the easiest to identify. Jane’s mother had counseled her that a Louis Vuitton bag was the tackiest thing ever. The conspicuously branded bag was nothing more than a hideous brown turd pockmarked by someone else’s initials. This was one of the pearls of maternal wisdom that she had never been able to shake entirely.
Was broadcasting allegiance to Louis Vuitton as well as to Gucci tantamount to rooting for competing teams? Was that like rooting for the Clippers and the Lakers at the same time?
Tracey sighed.
“So, this closet is, um, slightly overstuffed?”
“You have so many beautiful things!” Lindsey chirped.
Jane bristled. Compliments of this sort did not exactly set the table for a cleansing purge.
“You should see my husband’s closet.” Tracy rolled her eyes.“He has a man cave with all kinds of junk in there, but this is about me. I don’t want to be drowning in stuff, you know?”
