Free Slay Belles by Nancy Martin

Lettitia McGraw tote.”
    So Popo had been hoarding merchandise for years and reselling it to her most trusted clients. Now I needed to find out if the merchandise had been legitimately hers to sell or if she’d stolen from Haymaker’s to keep her side business well stocked.
    But I wasn’t going to learn more from Evie. She pulled herself coolly together, obviously sorry she had told me anything. “It was so nice to see you again, Nora. Thank you for coming.”
    She couldn’t get me out the door fast enough.
    I decided to hike across town to Rittenhouse Square. If Popo truly lived in my old building, perhaps I could chat up the doorman. He might have some insight into Popo’s private boutique.
    But the weather had gotten ugly, and I made it only a few blocks before stopping to dry off in a coffee shop. I didn’t want to ruin my shoes in the slush, so I found a pay phone and got lucky. Well, sort of.
    Twenty minutes later, my sister Libby pulled up in front of the coffee shop. I ran out across the sidewalk to the street and popped open the passenger door of her minivan.
    “I was picking up a few more gifts! Shopping is such an adrenaline rush. Almost as good as aerobics, don’t you think?” She chattered with even more animation than usual as I climbed in. “I had a fabulous day. First I went to the King of Prussia mall; then I dashed into the city for another look around Haymaker’s, but they’re closed. Can you believe it?”
    “Are you taking those metabolism herbs again?”
    “Of course not! I’m just enjoying the season! Look, I even bought a few things for myself. There was an Elizabeth Arden special bonus
and
a Vera Bradley diaper bag discount, so I went crazy.”
    I glanced into the backseat and saw a mountain of bags and packages. “Boy, you’re not kidding.”
    “You don’t have to hurry home, do you? Can you have dinner with me?”
    “Don’t you have to get home to the baby? Aren’t you still nursing?”
    “I’m weaning him. I don’t mind the extra cup size, but the leaking has become a problem. You should have seen the puddles I made on the massage table last week.”
    I remembered I wanted to ask Libby about her massages, but she bulldozed over my voice.
    “It’s time to wean, anyway. I can’t put my own life on hold forever,” she rattled on as she pulled into traffic. “And that child can thrive on Bright Beginnings just as well as my milk, which is probably tainted by preholiday stress.”
    “Why don’t you let me help with your shopping, Lib? You could stay home and enjoy the children.”
    “Dear heaven, I’m trying to get
away
from home! The twins are driving me insane. Lucy’s invisible friend gives everybody the creeps, and who knows what Rawlins has been doing. He’s hardly ever at home anymore. I think he needs a father figure, a strong man to be a role model.”
    I began to suspect that the blaze in my sister’s eyes was a hormonal surge, not seasonal mania. “Are you doing something about that? The father figure, I mean?”
    “Of course not! I’m not dating anyone. Or seeing anyone at all, in fact.” Her madly cheerful front began to crumble. “Who would want a lactating cow like me? What man could possibly enjoy spending time with a widow with five children when he could have anyone in the world, b-b-but he chooses another
man
over me, for crying out loud, because I’m too
disgusting
?”
    “Are we talking about—”
    “J-J-Jason, of course! He’s
gay
! How come nobody ever
tells
me these things? Attractive gay men should be required to wear name tags so women don’t make fools of themselves! I-I-I felt like such a
breeder
!”
    “Libby,” I said, “let’s go get some dinner and talk.”
    She burst into tears.
    She wobbled the van next to a fire hydrant, set the brake, and bawled for a while. I made soothing noises and calmed her down with some platitudes, pats on the back, and finally a butterscotch Life Saver that I found in the glove compartment.