Free Klepto by Jenny Pollack Page B

Sunday morning. I could always tell it was Marty on the phone ’cause Mom said, “Hi ya!” (Which, by the way, were Ellie’s first words: “Hi ya!” So the story goes.)
    “Would you like to come with me to Lord and Taylor, Julie?” Mom said. “There’s a good holiday jewelry sale.”
    I figured, sure, what the hell. I thought for a second about what it would be like to be in a department store with Mom, after all my recent escapades in department stores, but then I put any thought of stealing out of my mind. I wasn’t a complete idiot; I knew I would never do anything stupid with my Mom right there . Maybe I’d actually buy something.
    As soon as we got to Lord & Taylor, we browsed through the “costume jewelry,” as Mom called it, on the first floor. I didn’t see anything too exciting. Mom said to the salesgirl, “Where are these?” and pointed to the ripped-out page from the catalogue. The photo was of some long necklaces that I thought were pretty ugly. What made grown-ups choose the fashions they did? Mom had so much clothing that I hated; I wished she would dress more young and stylish like Mimi. Some of Mom’s clothes seemed so old-ladyish. She had blouses with these wide ribbon-tie things at the neck that made a big loose bow and were made of material that was so itchy I didn’t know how she could stand it.
    “Mom, that shirt is, like, so out of style,” I said one time when she was getting dressed for work.
    “So?” she said, blinking at me. “What do you care? You don’t have to wear it.” She had a point.
    “So, people are gonna think you’re really old-fashioned.”
    “What do I care what people think?” she said, almost laughing, like, what a crazy idea. What other people think.
    “You mean to tell me,” I said, “that you really don’t care what other people think about you?”
    “Nope,” she said, and smiled at me.
    I was thinking about this conversation as Mom took out her coral lipstick and reapplied it, using the mirror on the jewelry counter where the salesgirl had directed us.
    I looked at her reflection in the mirror on the counter. Thank God she had finally updated her hairstyle. For my whole life my mom had worn her hair in this totally embarrassing, sprayed way that was so incredibly 1960s, like a bouffant. Ellie finally got her to cut it and get a perm and look like a normal person who was of this decade.
    Mom was examining the multicolored beaded necklaces on the counter, and my eye was suddenly drawn to some glittering rhinestone bracelets one counter over. I absolutely loved rhinestones. Mandy had a really cool rhinestone bracelet that I was dying for. She wore it when she played gigs with her band, and it totally added to her rock-star look. I always stared at it on her wrist as her hand moved along the strings of her electric guitar and wished I had one. As the lady was taking out necklaces for Mom, I said, “I’ll be over there.”
    “All right,” Mom said, not really looking at me.
    The rhinestone bracelets cost $12.50 and were like those stretchy watch bands. They were so cool, I was practically salivating. I tried one on. Oh man, it looked so good on my wrist. There were a few other customers around the counter, but no salesperson that I could see. Just then, a thin blonde woman popped up out of nowhere and said, “Can I help you?”
    “No thanks, just looking,” I said.
    “All right, let me know if you need anything,” she said kind of distractedly as she went to deal with some customers on the other side. A middle-aged couple looked aggravated, like, excuse us , we were here first. I put back the rhinestone bracelet and tried on another one, a little wider—$15.50. It looked even better than the first one! My hand is made for this bracelet, I thought. I rotated my wrist a few times, watching how it flickered sparkly specks of light.
    “Julie!” my mother called, and I jumped a little, catching my breath. I turned around to look at her at the