Free Changing Habits: A Short Story (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery) by Alice Loweecey Page A

off the shoulder, one had fur trim, and don’t forget the dingleberries.”
    “I wish I could. The styles may have varied, but all they really looked like were ‘generic winter bride.’”
    “I don’t know what to tell you.” Laurel sucked pink ice cream from the tip of her sugar cone.
    “I know.” Giulia gave her custard the attention it deserved. “Solving crimes is less stressful than planning a wedding.”
    When they’d finished their ice cream, Laurel took Katie to the ladies’ room to de-strawberry her. Giulia stared out the window at the stores opposite. Heart-shaped neon lit the chocolates in one storefront and strings of white mini lights illuminated the antique store displays. A mannequin in a fringed flapper dress posed with its hand on one of those huge vintage radios. Opposite it, a polished table set for high tea crowded against a filled bookshelf and a jewelry display case.
    “More dangly bits,” Giulia muttered.
    Laurel reentered the store carrying a sniffling Katie.
    “What happened?”
    “Somebody refused to let mama wash her face and hands. Somebody then sat on the floor in a pout right into a puddle.”
    Giulia cringed “Please say of water.”
    “Thankfully, yes.” Laurel struggled a squirming Katie into her coat. “I have to desert you because somebody needs a change of clothes and a time out.”
    Giulia kissed Laurel. “No problem. Thank you for coming on this futile quest.”
    “The right dress will grab you. Try that consignment shop up on Park, where the filthy rich live. You never know.”
    “I’m having serious thoughts about a 1200 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheet from Bed Bath & Beyond.” Giulia made a sad face at Katie.
    Katie crossed her plump arms and stuck out her bottom lip. Giulia bit her cheek so she wouldn’t laugh.
    Laurel jogged back toward the bridal shop’s parking lot, Katie bouncing in her arms. Giulia followed till they were out of sight, then turned around and headed the opposite way.
    The still-crowded sidewalks were a relief. No one noticed her. Her phone wasn’t ringing. No one needed Driscoll Investigations to save the day. Not one family member knew where she was. Frank’s multitude of brothers, sisters-in-law, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews were all of them wonderful and welcoming. They were also constantly on the phone or inviting her over to offer her advice or discuss wedding favors or music or food or flowers.
    She couldn’t imagine the added chaos if her own family got involved, but none of them had spoken to her since she left the convent. If her brother saw the notice in the paper, he might unbend enough to send a card. Giulia grimaced. If he did, it’d probably have Our Lady of Sorrows on the front and a pointed message about how he would pray for my soul, even though she was surely going to Hell.
    “Surprise, now I’m depressed. Falcone, you’re supposed to be happy. You’re getting married in six days.”
    She crossed the street to detach herself from this funk and to delay going back to her stripped-down apartment. It was her own fault for moving everything but the essentials into Frank’s apartment. Also her own fault for not moving in with him before the wedding. She shook her head at the thought. Like she’d ever have considered that.
    The antique shop loomed in front of her. She went in to look at pretty things that weren’t wedding gowns, without pressure since she’d already bought Frank’s gift. She’d scored two tickets to the exhibition match between Manchester United and Real Madrid at Foxboro in June. She’d warned all his brothers to have their phones ready when Frank opened it in case he squealed like a girl.
    That made her smile again.
    She wandered the crowded store, inhaling lemon furniture polish and the musty smell of old books. She admired pocket watches, Tiffany lamps, and more fragile china. When she spotted a set of five first-edition Nancy Drews, only the fact of her savings being