“I’ll try not to stare like the bumpkin I am,” Daisy said to Reed as they stood before a grand department store with a clock on the corner. Both of them needed an escape after Lillian’s funeral, and Reed had suggested that since they were all gussied up on a Saturday afternoon, they might as well go out on the town. He had driven to Birmingham and taken Daisy to Joy Young for a white-tablecloth lunch. Now they were strolling downtown and had made their way to Loveman’s, where he held the door open for her.
They felt the blissful rush of air-conditioning as they stepped inside. “Dang!” Daisy said as they walked around. Elegantly dressed salesclerks were spritzing perfume and dabbing makeup on eager customers. Mothers were towing impatient kids behind them as starry-eyed young couples asked directions to the wedding rings.
“Those stairs are movin’.” Daisy was wide-eyed, watching women in their high heels step onto the stairway that sent them gliding upward, past the mezzanine to the second floor of the store.
“That, ma’am, is the first escalator in the state o’ Alabama,” Reed said. “Wanna ride?”
“Maybe later. I think I’d rather go up there.” Daisy pointed to the mezzanine, where diners were having lunch at the store’s own restaurant. She and Reed took the stairs up and stood together at the balcony, watching all the activity below.
“How’d you learn your way around Birmingham?” Daisy asked.
“I used to come here with my buddies in high school. One of ’em had an older brother who’d let us tag along with him and his friends if we didn’t get on their nerves. And then when I got outta the hospital, I used to come here a lot. Birmingham’s a good place to kinda lose yourself. I think I like extremes. I either wanna be in a big city or on a creek bank. Never been too happy anywhere in the middle. You follow that?”
Daisy laughed. “Yes, I follow that.”
“You ever spent much time in a city this size?”
“No. We used to go down to Biloxi and Gulfport now and again, but they’re nowhere near as big as Birmingham. Charlie was never interested in much outside the farm and the Delta. But I’ve always been kinda curious about New Orleans.”
“Ever seen pictures?”
“Just in schoolbooks. Kinda doubt they showed us kids the most interestin’ parts.”
“Prob’ly not,” Reed said with a smile. “I served with a guy from the French Quarter, and he used to show me pictures his family sent over. I think you’d wear out your sketchbook there.”
“Sure would like to see it one o’ these days.”
“What else would you like to see?”
Daisy thought it over. “Florida, I guess. Mississippi’s got flat water, so I’d kinda like to see ocean waves. How ’bout you? Got anyplace you wanna go?”
“I think I’d like to fish those Louisiana bayous.”
“I’d sure like to draw ’em—all that bright green behind those cypress trees.”
“You draw and I’ll fish. That’ll work. Wanna ramble a little?”
They wandered the elegant store with its soaring ceilings, gleaming floors, sweeping stairway, and long glass display cases. The whole place smelled divine, with all the spritzing from the fragrance counter drifting through the store. Eventually they landed in the dress department.
“May I just say there’s a dress over here that was made for you.” A salesclerk had appeared out of nowhere. She was about Dolly’s age, smartly dressed, with an authoritative air about her.
“We’re not really—” Daisy began.
“Sir, may I ask if you are a veteran?” the clerk interrupted.
“Yes, ma’am,” Reed said.
“I thought so. I could tell by your fine posture. Servicemen never slouch. We offer an instant discount for our boys returning home. It’ll save you a fortune. My name is Rhoda. And you are?”
“Reed and Daisy,” Reed said.
“Mr. and Mrs. . . . ?” The clerk eyed the wedding band that Daisy still wore.
Before she could protest, Reed answered, “Ingram.”
“Come with me.”
Daisy was shooting him looks behind Rhoda’s back, but he was having too much fun to let her off the hook. The clerk turned her attention back to Daisy. “Floral—that’s for you. Many women can’t pull it off, but you can—classic bone structure, flawless complexion, hourglass figure. You can handle flowers without looking busy. They’ll bring out your lovely green eyes. I’ve got just the thing right over here.”
“But—” Again Daisy tried to protest.
“You heard the lady,” Reed said with a grin. “It’s right over there.”
They followed Rhoda through a sea of racks, straight to a mannequin that held a gorgeous dress—ivory silk overlaid with chiffon in a delicate floral pattern. It was fitted and sleeveless, with a V-neck and a flowing skirt that was slightly shorter in the front. Daisy couldn’t take her eyes off of it.
“Rhoda,” she finally said, “I can’t afford somethin’ like this.”
“Don’t listen to her, Rhoda,” Reed countered. “We’re loaded. C’mon, honey, just try it on.”
Once Rhoda had Daisy situated, she came out to chat with Reed, whom she had seated in a plush wingback chair next to a marble platform in front of a gilded three-way mirror.
“She’s a bit reluctant,” Rhoda said with her winning smile. “If I may venture a guess, Mrs. Ingram has no idea what she actually looks like?”
“Yes, ma’am, you are dead on the money.” He gave her a winning smile of his own, and Rhoda pulled up a velvet stool next to him.
“Might I suggest a few accessories,” she said as she sat down, “just little odds and ends to really bring her out? A stylish peep-toe, a hat perhaps, a strand of pearls . . .”
Reed pulled out his wallet. “Load her up, Rhoda.”
The salesclerk rushed out to the floor to gather Daisy’s accessories while Reed listened to Benny Goodman playing on the store’s sound system and waited. In a few minutes, Rhoda hurried back to the dressing room, carrying shoeboxes and hatboxes, with necklaces dangling from her wrist.
Eventually he heard her trying to coax Daisy out of the dressing room. “My dear, you look positively divine! Come out here and show Mr. Ingram.”
Finally, Daisy stepped through the velvet curtains that led to the dressing room and came out to see Reed. As she often did, she left him speechless. The dress fit her perfectly and did indeed bring out her eyes, as Rhoda had promised. Daisy was wearing the shoes Rhoda had suggested and a simple strand of pearls.
“As much as I love to make a sale, Mrs. Ingram simply does not need accessories,” Rhoda said. “I think simpler is better, don’t you agree?”
“I do,” Reed said.
Rhoda led Daisy to the platform in front of the three-way mirror. Reed watched her study her reflection as if she didn’t recognize herself.
“Shall I . . . ?”
“We’ll take it all, Rhoda. Can you wrap up her other things? I don’t think she’ll want to change back.”
Rhoda was beaming. “My pleasure. May I give you my card?”
“Yes, ma’am. And thank you.”
As Rhoda left them alone to ring up the sale and package the funeral clothes cast off in the fitting room, Daisy kept looking at her reflection in the mirror. “I don’t know her,” she finally said.
Reed stepped onto the platform beside her and took her hand. “I do. I met her on a creek bank back in the spring.”
Daisy shook her head. “That’s not who you met.”
“Yes, it is. You just had her all covered up. But I could still see her.”
He was gazing at her reflection, and now she was staring at his. “I don’t know what happens next, Reed.”
“That’s up to you. I’ve known what I wanted from day one.”
Daisy kept looking at his image in the mirror. “You’ve got the strangest eyes I’ve ever seen,” she said very softly.
A reflection of her wasn’t nearly enough. Reed turned to face her, slipped one arm around her waist, and held her face with his free hand. He gave no thought to the shoppers passing by or the three mirrors projecting the image of a young vet embracing the love of his life and pouring out, in one lingering kiss, the longing and loneliness that had haunted him since the war.