The day after my song had been played on the radio, my phone was still blowing up with congratulatory messages. But so far I hadn’t gotten anything from Barney, the person I most wanted to hear from.
I waited under the overhang of the store’s awning for Maya. The dreary, grey sky matched my mood. From down the street, her distinctive Muppet coat made its appearance. “Hey,” she called out, breathless and wearing the most impractical wedge boots. I had no idea how she could walk in them. I looked down at my Cons, which were actually an old pair of Lou’s. A small hole had formed on one side. “I have news.” She gripped my sleeves and gave me an intense stare.
“Good or bad?” I asked, not sure I could take any more bad.
“Good!” she answered emphatically. “We’re going to go to Georgia Waters.”
I gaped at her. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re going!” she squealed. “Me and you!”
“Maya,” I said warningly. “Don’t joke about this.” It was Thursday and I’d pretty much given up on going.
“I’m not. My grounding is over tomorrow, so I told Mom I’d babysit for her on Saturday if she let me sleep over at your place. That’s step one. Step two is to buy the tickets online, and step three is to go into the city, probably by bus because it’s the cheapest, but we could also call a cab or Uber.”
“Maya, that’s not a plan! I already told you, tickets cost a fortune. There’s no way we can afford them.”
“That’s what I thought until I did a little internet sleuthing.” She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Do you remember the Thierry Mugler blazer I found at a flea market last year? The black one?”
I didn’t, but I nodded anyway.
“I can get two hundred and fifty dollars for it on consignment at Vintage Village. And this coat?” She fingered the Muppet. “Another three hundred, easy. Plus, there are those gold lamé shoes that I’ve never worn. They’re from the forties, so they’re worth something.” She looked at me like all our problems were solved.
“But —” I stammered an argument. Maya loved her clothes. She felt about them the same way some people adore their pets. Each item was special to her. For her, deciding what to wear in the morning was an event, unlike me, who threw on whatever wasn’t dirty.
“They’re just clothes,” Maya said, but I heard the hesitation in her voice. “Seeing your mom is a big deal. When I heard your song on the radio, ‘Miss Georgia’ …” She shook her head. “Oh my god, Dizzy! It was amazing! I had tears in my eyes. It just made everything else going on, like that contract, seem so stupid. You need to see her. As much as my mom drives me crazy, I don’t know what I’d do without her. You deserve to know who your mom is, even if it’s surrounded by twenty thousand people.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Maya gave a firm nod of her head. “Positive. We’ll go to Vintage Village after school today and see how much we can get. Hopefully, it’ll buy us two tickets.”
“This might actually work,” I muttered as we started walking to school.
Maya shopped at Vintage Village often enough that Debbie, the owner, knew her by name. As soon as we walked in with a bag full of Maya’s treasures, Debbie came over. I watched as Maya took a deep breath and pulled out the Muppet coat and lay it on the counter. Under the glass were rhinestone earrings and gaudy necklaces with golf-ball-sized baubles on them. All the Vintage Villageness of the store was a lot to take in at once. It was only someone with style, like Maya, who could pick pieces and make them work.
“DVF,” she said and pointed to the tag. “Original buttons, no rips or tears.”
Debbie fingered the fur pile lovingly, narrowing her eyes as she inspected the cuffs and hem. I’d seen Maya do the same thing when she was shopping.
“I’ve also got this.” Maya pulled out the blazer. Debbie gave a sharp intake of breath.
“Mugler?”
“Yes. Size two.” Maya pushed it toward Debbie, carefully folding one sleeve across the body.
“Finally, there’s these. Size seven and purchased from the original owner’s daughter at the flea market. Circa 1940s.” The gold lamé shoes had little bows on the top and a curvy heel. They looked like golden versions of Dorothy’s ruby slippers. I’d never seen Maya wear them, but I knew they were one of her favourite finds. Bought for ten dollars, she knew they’d be worth ten times that amount online or at Vintage Village.
Debbie practically rubbed her hands together in glee. “Are these consignment pieces?”
Maya’s eyes flickered to me, but I shrugged. I couldn’t give her advice on what to do; the clothes were hers. “How much will you give if I sell them to you?”
“For the coat, blazer, and shoes” — she blinked a few times, thinking — “four hundred dollars.”
For a bunch of old clothes? I wanted to ask, but I kept quiet. Maya’s closet was a gold mine! “Five hundred,” I piped up, surprising myself. If Maya was going to sacrifice her most beloved possessions for me, the least I could do was get her as much as possible.
“Four twenty-five.”
“Five hundred.”
Debbie gave a disgruntled sigh. “Four fifty.”
I nodded at Maya. “Sold!”
Debbie swept the clothes off the counter and grabbed hangers off a rack for them. “If you have anything else you want to bring in, please do. You have excellent taste.”
Maya blushed with pride. I walked around the store while Debbie sent Maya an etransfer. Some of the prices shocked me, and I knew that Maya’s pieces would be on display by the end of the day with a price tag double what Maya had been paid. My heart lurched for her. “Never again will I complain when you ask me to go shopping with you,” I swore as we left the store.
“Step two, complete!” Maya grinned triumphantly and buttoned up the navy peacoat she’d dug up from her closet. It looked very un-Maya compared to the Muppet coat, and I swallowed back a lump of guilt. Please, please make this concert worth it, I prayed.