Touched by Carolyn Haines Page B

like shedding the past. I thought of my sister and was stabbed by a twinge of fear. What would become of her now that I was gone? Would Jojo find some man to buy her off his hands the same way he’d done me? I was married, true enough, but Jojo had seen to that part.
    I tried the yellow first. It was cotton, and the sleeves were short and cuffed with lace and a hem that rose a good four inches above my ankles. I was too old for a sash, but the dress had a white belt that called attention to my waist.
    “Come on out,” Olivia ordered. “There’s a mirror out here so you can take a gander at yourself.”
    I didn’t want to put on my ugly shoes, so I stepped out barefoot, headfirst, to make sure no one had come in while I’d changed. On the other side of the store, old Mrs. Tisdale was selling dried beans to a little boy I didn’t know. I could hear the hard beans pinging into the scales as she weighed them out by the pound.
    Olivia took a look at my bare feet and put her hands on her hips. “Well, well, if it ain’t little Cinderella.”
    My image in the mirror transfixed me. Instinctively I reached up to pin up my straggly hair, anything to make me look older.
    “Try the green,” she said, never shifting from the worn pine floor.
    The green was not nearly as pretty, but it did serve to make me look married. It also made me feel less nervous. The yellow was as if I was exposed, showing something indecent, even though it was a perfectly decent dress.
    “I like this one,” I told Olivia.
    “I expect your husband will, too.” There was something dark in her eyes that was the opposite of her hearty laughter. “You want to wear it home?”
    I did, but I couldn’t. “I have to let Elikah see it before I buy it.” “You could wear it on down to his shop. I can’t see that he wouldn’t like it.”
    I shook my head. He wouldn’t like it if I put him on the spot like that in public. He liked to make his decisions at home, after he’d had some time to think. Wearing the dress down the street was as good as saying it was mine. I went back in the closet and unbuttoned it, letting it fall around my feet to step out of it.
    There was a quick tap. Then the door swung open, and Olivia stood there with another dress in her hand. “Here, try this one. It was hanging in the …” She stopped as she looked at the backs of my bare legs.
    I turned around quickly.
    “Ah, hanging in the front,” she finished, all life gone from her voice. “It might suit you better than the green print.” She stood there holding the dress as I stared at the floor, unable even to reach up and take the dress from her.
    “How old are you, really?” she finally asked.
    “Sixteen.” I had just turned the last week in June. The day I had been married, in fact.
    “Are you okay?” She just stood there.
    I nodded. “I, uh, broke Elikah’s favorite cup.” I tried to explain the marks.
    “You look a little young for marriage and a little old for a strappin’.” She handed the dress in to me and closed the door.
    I took the solid green dress with the white collar. It was cotton and cool, but not as carefree as the yellow one. Olivia hadn’t said so, but the yellow made me look my age. Young. But there were plenty of girls sixteen who were married and starting families. My own mama had married at fifteen, then given birth to me just after she turned sixteen. She was young, but she said she never regretted those years with Daddy. I remembered him some, sitting at the table in his engineer’s cap and his large hands seamed by coal. I was seven when he was killed. The next year Mama took up with Jojo. The railroad was going to put us out of the house, and even though she did washing and ironing for some of the railroad officials, she couldn’t make enough to pay the rent and feed four kids. It was Jojo or starvation, she said, and she made the choice.
    When Elikah came home for dinner, I showed him the dress. He made me turn around and pin