She had grown proud of her blisters and scratches – badges awarded for a hard
day’s work – but next to soft, stylish Michelle, she felt coarse.
“Here in Detroit?” Michelle tipped her head to the side and smiled at Olivia,
obviously curious about her.
“No. About 35-40 miles west of here. I’m just passing through on my way
back East.” Olivia kept her eyes on the floor.
“You must be tired from your journey. You look a bit peeked. Pardon my
asking, but I can recommend a good place to eat if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you, but I’ve eaten.” She didn’t know why, but the woman’s kindness
made her feel like crying. “Could I see your ready-to-wears?”
Michelle showed her to the rack and Olivia looked through it, pausing at a
gingham dress in two shades of blue, with white trim at the neck and sleeves.
“Yes,” Michelle said, “that one looks about your size. I’m sure it will look lovely on you. I have a room in the back where you can try it on.”
Olivia nodded and continued looking at the other dresses, wishing Michelle
would go away.
“Please excuse me. I will be back in just a moment.” Michelle seemed to have
read Olivia’s mind and walked out, setting the bell on the door ringing.
Olivia looked around, wondering if a clerk she hadn’t noticed was minding
the shop, but Michelle seemed to have left her alone. A few minutes later the jingling bell announced her return.
Michelle set a brown bottle on the counter and reclaimed her seat on the stool.
“Let me know if I can help you with anything.” Her attention returned to the book while Olivia continued pulling dresses from the rack. She picked up the blue gingham and was looking to see how much of a hem it had, when a hand
touched her shoulder. She did not punch Michelle in the face as she had Jeremy,
but flinched and pulled away, almost tipping the rack over.
“I’m sorry … I didn’t mean … are you all right?” Michelle bent to look into
Olivia’s face.
“No, no, it’s I who must apologize.” Olivia’s face was red. “I … I …” She didn’t feel like repeating the lie she’d told Jeremy. “I don’t know what’s wrong
with me. I’m sorry. I’ll be going.”
“Please, no, don’t be silly. There’s no reason for you to leave.” Michelle
reached out, as if to place her hand on Olivia’s arm, then pulled it back.
Through the fog of her humiliation, Olivia noticed that Michelle’s French
accent had evaporated.
“Sit down and rest for a while if you’d like. That blue dress would be lovely
on you. It’d be a shame for you not to try it on.”
Olivia stood staring at the dress and said nothing.
“Better yet, first let me fix your hair for you.”
Olivia’s hand went to her head and she felt her face flush again. It must have
been weeks since her hair had a proper washing.
“Forgive me for saying so,” Michelle said as she drew closer, “but your hair
... It’s a shame. A lovely girl like you. Why don’t you let me give you a good shampoo? I do that for many of my customers. I have a special basin in the back.
I originally meant this place to be a ladies’ hair salon.”
