CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

 

Jeff parked the woodie, retrieved the case from the back, and walked the half block to the front entrance of All Things Old.

It seemed like ten years had passed since he’d left here Thursday evening.

Trudy was waiting for him as planned. She ushered him into her office next to Blanche’s and stood watch at the door as he unpacked the pieces.

Constantly he reminded himself to remain steady as, one by one, he took each item from its protective wrapping and placed it on the large worktable. Then he assembled the pieces for presentation.

“Here she comes!” Trudy whispered excitedly.

Jeff followed suit, whispering, “Tell me when she’s inside.”

Trudy nodded.

After a moment, she turned. “Okay, she’s in her office. Are you ready?”

Jeff exhaled, steadied himself. “I’m ready.”

Trudy held the door open for Jeff as he maneuvered his way through the opening and into the corridor. He held back, then, while Trudy knocked.

“Come in.” Blanche’s voice sounded muffled, distracted, and Jeff knew that she’d already buried her head in the shop’s ledgers. He followed Trudy inside.

Blanche was seated behind her desk, slippered feet planted as always upon her tapestry footstool. Her fiery red hair was piled high in curls that bobbed as she turned her head from receipts to columns and back again.

Something ached inside Jeff. How could he have ever suspected this virtuous woman of spying on him?

“Mrs. Appleby,” Trudy said, “you may want to get out your checkbook. Mr. Talbot was high bidder on an auction item you’ll be interested in.”

Blanche looked up. Her jaw dropped, then clamped back shut. She clasped a delicate hand to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes. At last, when she was able to speak, the words came out quietly and a little pinched by emotion.

“Oh my, oh my,” she said.

Trudy, who’d been grinning broadly, suddenly burst into tears. With one hand she held the large frames of her glasses away from her cheeks and with the other dabbed at her eyes with a linen handkerchief.

Jeff placed the cabaret set on Blanche’s desk. He swallowed hard, and a long moment passed before he could speak. “Have tea with us, won’t you, Blanche?”

Blanche Appleby looked up at him with all the innocence and wonder of a child and nodded.