impulsive, since I rarely did anything without advance planning, I picked up the basket and held it out to the younger woman. “How much is this one?”
“Seventy-five dollars,” she said as she stood and moved to the edge of the table to face me. “All made by hand.”
The price was high, and I could tell by Nola’s quick intake of breath that she thought so, too. But I figured any kid who’d had the guts to get on a bus and take it to the other side of the country to live with strangers needed a little something to call her own.
“I’ll take it,” I said, drawing my wallet from my purse. The woman quickly processed the transaction and placed the basket in a plain white paper bag before handing it to Nola.
Nola kept her arms crossed in front of her, pressing the Palm Avenue shopping bag against her chest. “It’s not mine,” she protested.
“I got it for you,” I said, taking the bag and pressing it into Nola’s hand. “It’s a welcome to the Lowcountry. Besides,” I added, as I drew her away from the table, “I’m going to make your dad pay me back.” I winked at her, eliciting a small smile, and began walking again.
We passed tables of beaded jewelry and homemade perfumes, wreaths made of twigs and dried marsh grass, and individually wrapped bags of candied pecans and peanut brittle. Never one to pass up sugar, I bought one of each and held one up to Nola.
She shook her head. “No, thanks. It’s probably made with real eggs and lots of sugar.”
I took a bite of peanut brittle, savoring the burst of sweetness on my tongue. “I certainly hope so.”
“How can you put that stuff into your body?” she asked with disgust as I took another bite.
I swallowed with a smile. “Very easily, thank you.”
As Nola paused at a booth selling hand-carved wooden animals, I broached the next question. Gently, I asked, “Why did you take the money from the wallet?”
She picked up a statue of a sleeping cat and moved it up to her face to study it closely. “I needed to buy something.”
“You do know that you can ask your dad for money, right? Don’t tell him I said this, but I think he’s a pretty reasonable and fair-minded guy. I don’t think he’d be a pushover, but he’d listen.”
She continued to study the cat, turning it over and running her fingers over the smooth, dark wood. “I know.” She placed the cat gently on the table, keeping her eyes averted. “That’s not the problem.”
I frowned, not understanding until I saw the stain of pink rise on her cheeks. “Oh,” I said, unsure how to continue. “You needed . . . female things?”
She gave a short nod, followed by a shrug.
I placed my hand on her arm and gently led her away from the table. “I think he could handle it, Nola. He’s not as clueless as he looks.”
That brought another slight upward turn to her lips. Still, she wouldn’t meet my eyes as she turned to walk back in the direction we’d come.
I followed. “He’s your father, Nola. No matter how embarrassing you think it would have been to ask him, it would have been better than stealing the money.”
She stopped so suddenly that I nearly ran into her back.
The hand clutching the two shopping bags turned nearly white. “My mom never had money for that stuff, so once a month I took a bus to a different town and stole what we needed. I figured paying money for it would be better.” She turned and continued walking.
It took a moment for her words to sink in, and then I had to jog in my high heels to catch up. “Look, Nola. Let’s go to Trellis Pharmacy and we’ll get you everything you need, okay? Even makeup. But don’t ask me to buy you any black eyeliner. You’ve got the most beautiful blue eyes, and nobody can see them with all that black goo smeared around them.”
Her eyes narrowed and her mouth puckered in a look I was already beginning to recognize as defiance, and I cut her off before she could speak. “You can keep the red lipstick
“Seventy-five dollars,” she said as she stood and moved to the edge of the table to face me. “All made by hand.”
The price was high, and I could tell by Nola’s quick intake of breath that she thought so, too. But I figured any kid who’d had the guts to get on a bus and take it to the other side of the country to live with strangers needed a little something to call her own.
“I’ll take it,” I said, drawing my wallet from my purse. The woman quickly processed the transaction and placed the basket in a plain white paper bag before handing it to Nola.
Nola kept her arms crossed in front of her, pressing the Palm Avenue shopping bag against her chest. “It’s not mine,” she protested.
“I got it for you,” I said, taking the bag and pressing it into Nola’s hand. “It’s a welcome to the Lowcountry. Besides,” I added, as I drew her away from the table, “I’m going to make your dad pay me back.” I winked at her, eliciting a small smile, and began walking again.
We passed tables of beaded jewelry and homemade perfumes, wreaths made of twigs and dried marsh grass, and individually wrapped bags of candied pecans and peanut brittle. Never one to pass up sugar, I bought one of each and held one up to Nola.
She shook her head. “No, thanks. It’s probably made with real eggs and lots of sugar.”
I took a bite of peanut brittle, savoring the burst of sweetness on my tongue. “I certainly hope so.”
“How can you put that stuff into your body?” she asked with disgust as I took another bite.
I swallowed with a smile. “Very easily, thank you.”
As Nola paused at a booth selling hand-carved wooden animals, I broached the next question. Gently, I asked, “Why did you take the money from the wallet?”
She picked up a statue of a sleeping cat and moved it up to her face to study it closely. “I needed to buy something.”
“You do know that you can ask your dad for money, right? Don’t tell him I said this, but I think he’s a pretty reasonable and fair-minded guy. I don’t think he’d be a pushover, but he’d listen.”
She continued to study the cat, turning it over and running her fingers over the smooth, dark wood. “I know.” She placed the cat gently on the table, keeping her eyes averted. “That’s not the problem.”
I frowned, not understanding until I saw the stain of pink rise on her cheeks. “Oh,” I said, unsure how to continue. “You needed . . . female things?”
She gave a short nod, followed by a shrug.
I placed my hand on her arm and gently led her away from the table. “I think he could handle it, Nola. He’s not as clueless as he looks.”
That brought another slight upward turn to her lips. Still, she wouldn’t meet my eyes as she turned to walk back in the direction we’d come.
I followed. “He’s your father, Nola. No matter how embarrassing you think it would have been to ask him, it would have been better than stealing the money.”
She stopped so suddenly that I nearly ran into her back.
The hand clutching the two shopping bags turned nearly white. “My mom never had money for that stuff, so once a month I took a bus to a different town and stole what we needed. I figured paying money for it would be better.” She turned and continued walking.
It took a moment for her words to sink in, and then I had to jog in my high heels to catch up. “Look, Nola. Let’s go to Trellis Pharmacy and we’ll get you everything you need, okay? Even makeup. But don’t ask me to buy you any black eyeliner. You’ve got the most beautiful blue eyes, and nobody can see them with all that black goo smeared around them.”
Her eyes narrowed and her mouth puckered in a look I was already beginning to recognize as defiance, and I cut her off before she could speak. “You can keep the red lipstick
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