Free Cast Me Gently by Caren J. Werlinger Page B

time, but not now.” He grabbed her arm and made her stop. “Ellie. Listen to me. I don’t care if Daniel is out there somewhere. You are not one of them. And you are going to get hurt if you keep walking up to them like that.”
    Ellie pulled her arm free and walked on. Sullivan had to hurry to catch up. “I’m not going to get hurt,” she said. “And Daniel is out there somewhere. I know it.”
    Sullivan walked beside her for a few blocks, neither of them talking. “Want to get some breakfast?” he asked at last.
    “I can’t,” she said. “I told Teresa Benedetto I’d help her with a Thanksgiving display at their store.” She stopped. “I should get back.”
    “Ellie, I’m sorry. I—”
    “I know, Sullivan,” Ellie said quietly. “But I have to believe he’s out there. I have to.”

    “Maybe I should do that.”
    Teresa looked back. Her rear end had knocked over half the trees in their model of Central Park.
    When Ellie had arrived that morning, she had with her an artist’s folio. “I thought—I hope you don’t think I was being presumptuous—but I already planned…” She unzipped the folio and pulled out cardboard and construction paper models of Central Park, buildings, cartoon characters. “How about if we build a model of the Macy’s Parade in your window?”
    “Are you allowed to do Macy’s when you work for Kaufman’s?” Teresa asked.
    Ellie laughed. “It’s only against the rules if you work for Gimbels.”
    “This is amazing,” Teresa said, looking over the detailed miniatures.
    Ellie reached back into the folio and pulled out a bag of plastic toy soldiers. “Our band and our balloon-handlers.”
    Teresa shook her head. “You thought of everything,” she said, but when it came time to set up the window, “I’m like a bull in a china shop,” she confessed. Every time she shifted, she knocked something over.
    Ellie lithely climbed into the front window and straightened all the knocked-over trees. Carefully, she strung up the fake balloons—Popeye, Superman, and Donald Duck, anchoring them to the toy soldiers who were now serving in the parade. As a finishing touch, she sprinkled the scene with soap flakes to look like snow.
    People stopped to watch, pointing and smiling. Mrs. Schiavo and Mr. Campagnolo from the shoe repair shop came by as well.
    Teresa went outside. “What do you think?” she asked Mrs. Schiavo.
    “It looks wonderful, molto bello,” she said. “Like watching the parade on the television.”
    Some of the passersby came into the store to browse, enticed by the aroma of coffee and chocolate. Sylvia was kept busy making cappuccinos and lattes, but earlier that morning, she hadn’t been happy about Ellie’s arrival.
    “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she’d whispered angrily to Teresa. “She knows nothing about us. Why are you bringing her here?”
    “Ma, she knows retail,” Teresa said. “We sold four times as much at Halloween as we ever have before. Why are you arguing about this?”
    At Ellie’s suggestion back when they did the Halloween window, Teresa had talked her father into ordering Thanksgiving-themed tablecloths, napkins and candles.
    “Your store isn’t big enough to move expensive items like china,” Ellie had said. “But you could do specialty items, like serving platters and extra touches that people will buy to make their tables look nice. And what doesn’t sell this year will save for next year. This kind of merchandise doesn’t go out of fashion. Do the same for Christmas and you’re set. As soon as Thanksgiving is over, people start their Christmas shopping.”
    Ellie’s advice was already bearing fruit, as customers began buying some of the things Lou had stocked.
    The decorating of the window took most of the afternoon. “What do you think?” Ellie asked. She shivered in the cold as she stood out front with Teresa to survey their work.
    “I think it looks great,” Teresa said. “The best holiday window