CHAPTER TEN - NOT A FASHION SHOW

"Mom, why are you reading a book about a store?" Jamie asked, his brows knitting together.

It was Saturday afternoon, and Amanda had found herself engrossed in a locally published book about the the flagship department stores of Washington D.C. Woodford and Lothrop, Garfinkel's, and even Warren's. She'd found it at the library that morning, when she'd idly wandered over to the history section while Jamie browsed the shelves for a book about tornadoes. She wasn't sure what she'd expected to find when she checked it out, but she'd been captivated by it for over an hour now.

"Oh it's for work, sweetheart," Amanda said, setting the book down. She felt relief wash over her, suddenly – it was so rare she could say anything about what she did at work without it being a fib to cover some other, ridiculous story.

Jamie blinked. He squirted chocolate syrup into a glass and followed it with milk. "Is this for a documentary?"

She hadn't thought about it until right that second, but her mouth started moving independently of her brain and she found herself telling Jamie that yes, it was for a new project they were starting and she was helping with the concept development this time. "We're doing a little competition at the end of the week to see who can come up with the most interesting ideas, and they might make the best ones into movies this year."

"That's kind of cool. What's your idea?"

"Well," Amanda said slowly, "I have a bunch, but I think these big fancy department stores might make a good one."

Jamie wrinkled his nose. "Really?"

Amanda laughed. "You don't think so?"

Jamie shook his head. "Nope. Bo-ring. You should do one about robots." He stirred the chocolate milk, then drew the spoon out of the glass. She watched as he started to set it down on the counter, then caught himself and put it in the dishwasher.

"Hmm, maybe," she said, already thinking about the department store again. She flipped through the book, suddenly feeling as if her brain was working a mile a minute. Maybe this was the idea she'd been looking for all along. The lightning Lee had been talking about the other day. "What about robots?"

"Are they going to take over the planet or not?" Jamie said, reaching for the cookie jar.

"That could be kind of fun," Amanda admitted. Maybe she'd give the idea to Lee. Not that he'd take it. He hadn't liked her ark suggestion the night before. She looked up again as her mother came into the room carrying a garment bag. "What's that, Mother?"

"Oh, I finally got that new dress back from the seamstress," Dotty said, hanging the bag from a hook near the door.

"I could've helped you with the alterations, Mother. You didn't have to —"

"Darling, I know you could have, but you have a thousand things on your plate now that you're working full-time, and this thing has a lining and a hidden side-zip and I know how you feel about those."

"Well I could've pinned it for you."

"It doesn't matter anyway, because it's done now but the party is off."

"What. Why?"

"Marion has pink-eye. Can you imagine? She got it from her grandson." She shot an accusatory look at Jamie, as if he were responsible. He bit into a cookie, oblivious.

"Oh, that's a shame. Is she rescheduling? She must be. She paid for catering."

"Yes, but she's rebooking for three weeks from now and don't think I can go."

"Why not?"

Dotty sighed, and Amanda knew she was trying to be patient. She suspected her mother had already explained this to her and she hadn't really been listening, or she'd been too tired, or Lee had popped up in the kitchen window while Dotty was talking.

"Because I'm going away that weekend, remember?"

Amanda hesitated for a moment before she nodded. She didn't remember, but she knew it was probably right on the calendar. "Oh right. Sorry, I've got my dates all mixed up. Maybe you can take the dress with you when you go away?"

Her mother shot her a look that said she should know better. Wherever she was going was not the kind of place that required a dress like this one. Amanda bit her lips.

"Maybe you'll have a hot date soon, Grandma," Jamie said from his spot at the island.

Amanda laughed before she could stop herself. Dotty looked annoyed. She picked up the dress, its plastic garment bag rustling as she went. "You're both impossible," she muttered. "Everyone in this house is impossible."

"You sound like Phillip!" Amanda called after her, still laughing, then felt a pang of guilt. "Oh, Mother. You know we're only teasing."

The phone rang and she got up to answer, still chuckling a little as she said hello.

"Hey gorgeous," Lee said from the other end of the line. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, Jamie and I are just giving Mother a hard time," Amanda admitted. "What's going on?"

"You know how you said you find creative accounting interesting?"

"Mmhm." She felt a little flutter in her stomach — disappointment as her lazy Saturday went up in a puff of smoke, even if it meant seeing him.

"Well the boys in forensics turned up a few interesting things. You up for testing your chops on that new financial thing? The database?"

"Today?"

"Yeah, we've got a few dummy corporations to look into. If you have time." He paused. "I know you're taking the kids to the movies tonight so I'll make sure you're back in plenty of time. By five?"

"You could come, you know. To the movies."

"Ah…" He hesitated. "I'll save the big reveal for another day. Give them some notice. Okay?"

"Okay." She tried to keep her voice neutral. She saw Jamie trying to catch her eye, curious, and she smiled at him. "Should I meet you at the office?"

"I'll come get you, actually. I was running an errand not far from you and I'm on your side of town already. Ten minutes?"

"Uh." She glanced down at her clothing, a flannel shirt over a worn Bombers tee and jeans. She wasn't wearing makeup and she hadn't done a single thing with her hair that day beyond wash it. All she had done for her trip to the library that morning was tug a baseball cap over her ponytail. "Make it fifteen."

"It's not a fashion show," he joked, as if reading her mind.

"I'm just… practically in my pajamas is all," she said, laughing. "You might take the 'gorgeous' back."

"Never," he insisted, and she felt a thrill run up her spine. "I've seen you in thrift store pajamas, remember? And no pajamas, come to think of it."

"Fifteen minutes," she said, acutely aware of her son standing not three feet away. She knew her face had flushed. He was impossible, this man. No wonder her mother had so many theories about him.