Second First Impressions

When we go inside, we find Renata talking to Kurt, the regular sales assistant behind the counter. She’s saying to him, “Well, how much will you give me for a vintage Hermès riding jacket? I don’t like the buttons on it. I could use the closet space.”

“We don’t buy clothes,” he says in a slow patient voice, like they’ve been through this already. “Haven’t you ever given clothes to Goodwill?”

Renata picks through a tray of rings on the counter, tossing each aside like a parrot rejecting seeds. “If I donated it, how much would you sell it for?”

Teddy says from the back in the men’s section, “It says right there, all jackets are three dollars.”

“Three dollars?” Renata roars. “Has the world gone mad?”

“Donating is not mandatory, but we do appreciate it,” Kurt tells her, gathering up the jewelry. He brightens when he sees me. “Oh, hi, Ruthie. How’s it going?”

Kurt is in his midtwenties and hallelujah, he finally did

something about that hair. It used to be a longish bowl cut, tangling in his eyelashes when he talked, but now he’s got a haircut and a forehead. I’d always kind of assumed there’d be some zits lurking under there, but he’s revealed to be clear-complexioned and mildly attractive.

If I’d never felt Teddy Prescott’s vibrations before, I might even think Kurt is cute.

“I’m good thanks, Kurt. Hi, Renata and Teddy, thanks for coming. No Aggie today?” I look to the back racks.

“She’s too weary,” Renata says, eyes down and her lips pressed thin.

I look at the rack behind the counter. Like I knew he would, Kurt turns around and retrieves a small selection of garments. “What have we got?”

“I know you said you don’t wear red,” he begins, “but this is sort of your style. Or is it too short again?”

From the back, an incensed Teddy straightens to his full height with a face like a bull. He’s preparing to charge, but Melanie comes forward instead.

She shakes Kurt’s hand. “Melanie Sasaki, founder of the Method.” (That makes absolutely no sense and he’s weirded out.) “Let’s take a look. Oof, too short. And this one is a big no,” she scolds, weeding out a brown dress. “That’s what the old Ruthie would have gone for. No more brown librarian clothes. But the others are okay. We’re going to have a montage shortly.”

“Don’t be messing with her tidy vibe,” Teddy bellows from the back.

Renata pats the stack of clothes on the counter. “Add them to her dressing room,” she tells Kurt like we’re in a boutique. “Now, explain the meaning of this.” She snaps her fingers at Teddy and he comes forward at me like a mob henchman, pulling out an envelope from his jeans back pocket. It’s the invitation to the Christmas party.

I steel myself for the impending argument. “What part of the invitation do you need me to explain?”

“The theme. ‘Vintage prom.’” Renata’s stare is like lasers as she takes the card from Teddy’s hand and flaps it at me. “Did you do this to taunt me?”

I’m taken aback. “Excuse me?” I look at Teddy but he shrugs. “I work all year for this party. And I’d never taunt you with anything.”

“You somehow knew I didn’t go to my prom. My biggest life regret, and you knew. How?” She looks back down at the pastel invitation. “You googled it, didn’t you? I saw a program on TV that said everyone’s secrets are on the internet now.”

“I don’t think that applies if you were born before 1930,” Teddy quips and earns himself a punch in the stomach from his tiny employer. It wouldn’t have made much of a dent but he doubles over, anyway, holding his midsection. “Call . . . security—” He gasps overdramatically at Kurt, who dithers helplessly.

“Renata, I’m not a mind reader.” I try to remain patient despite somehow always being in the wrong. This is something that is clearly very painful for her. “Now’s your chance to come to our special Providence Prom.”

“And I’ll have to attend as an old person,” Renata says through gritted teeth. “I was supposed to go as myself, when I was young. I wanted to walk in with my true love, in front of absolutely everybody. But Aggie said we couldn’t.”

“Why?” I ask, but Melanie has been bristling at Renata’s tone and cuts in.

“Most people are excited. I’m arranging for a clothing hire company to come up the week before, for anyone who wants to hire a dress. My invitations turned out so beautifully. Even you have to admit that.”

Renata is caught on a detail. “Hire a dress? Hire. A. Dress? This just gets worse and worse.”

Melanie shrugs. “Do what you want. You are not forced to attend.”

I cut in: “But we hope you do. You could walk in wearing something totally spectacular.” The prospect of this tempts her. “We’re doing prom king and queen. All the music will be the same as . . . back then.”

Teddy says to me, “My dad got an invite. Melanie said you even sent one to Rose. But where’s mine?” He seems genuinely hurt now. His hand is still cradling his stomach. “Didn’t I tell you when we first met that I love costume parties?”