Broken Wings (Broken Wings 1)

“Oh, Teal,” Mrs. Mazel said, “how are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said, smiling. “I’m just thinking about what I’ll buy my mother for her birthday this year.”

“That’s nice,” she said, and called to her husband, who came out with a forced smile on his face.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I’m just looking to see what would make a nice birthday present,” I repeated.

He nodded and tightened his lips as he perused his own jewelry case.

“Bracelets are nice, especially with matching earrings,” he suggested.

I looked into the case.

“Yes. Could I see a few?” I asked.

“Which?” he returned.

“This one, that one, and that one,” I said, picking out three randomly.

They looked like they all weighed a ton as he put them on the counter.

“The ones you have chosen are expensive,” he warned.

“Oh, and those earrings and those,” I said, ignoring him and pointing.

He looked at his wife and then brought them out.

Another customer entered the store. I pretended to really be considering the bracelets, taking each and trying it on my own wrist, holding it up and studying it. To do so I removed the cheaper bracelet Mother had bought for me. When I had the opportunity, I put it in the box containing the one that most closely resembled it and kept the more expensive one on my wrist.

Mrs. Mazel had made her sale and was preparing to wrap the gift box. Mr. Mazel was very involved with his new customer now.

“Thank you,” I called out to him. “I have a good idea. I’ll talk it over with my father and be back.”

“Okay,” he said, now looking like he believed I would buy something.

“Thank you,” I repeated at the door and left. I hurried back to the pizza parlor.

Darcy was waiting.

“How did you do?” she asked quickly.

“You’ll see,” I said. “Come on inside. Del wants to see what we’ve done. Where are the others?”

“There’s Shirley,” she said, and nodded to our left. She was hurrying along, a smile on her face.

“I’m going to win,” she declared.

“We’ll see,” I said. “Come on inside.”

We entered the pizza parlor. Del saw us and meandered over.

“You can be the judge of who has the most expensive thing,” I told him. He squeezed his lips in the corners, still skeptical.

We all turned as Selma entered, her brow furled.

“I nearly got caught,” she moaned. “I had to pretend I forgot and then I had to pay for this,” she said, pulling a silk scarf out of a bag. “It took my whole allowance! Fifty dollars!”