Window Shopping(31)

“I want to stand next to the guest of honor,” Jordyn announces, coming up beside me and hooking an arm through mine, dragging me closer to the window and away from Aiden’s relatives. “Excuse us.” I’m still reeling a little from Shirley’s comment but fight through the nausea in my middle and focus on the moment ahead. “Don’t mind that woman,” Jordyn says out of the corner of her mouth. “You could present her with a swimming pool full of chocolate and she’d still look like she just ate a turd.”

I disguise my laughter with a cough. “Thanks for the save.”

“Welcome.” She squeezes our linked arms and addresses the assembled crowd. “We finally get to see what’s had this girl scurrying in and out of the store from morning until night.”

“It’s going to be great,” one of the other managers assures me, knocking back the final gulps of her coffee and sighing wistfully at the paper cup. “That was terrible. And yet, I need more.”

“We love the red dress display you created on the first floor. People have been coming in just to pose with it for Instagram,” says another, pronouncing Instagram in three distinct syllables. “Maybe you could do something like that in lingerie? We could use a boost!”

My ribs stretch to accommodate the warmth building in my chest. “I’d love to. I would. But I’m technically only working on a trial basis.” Even as I say this, my mind is filling out with a list of ideas. “But…I guess you’d have to appeal to men. Make it accessible to them. They are the ones who’ll be buying expensive lingerie this time of year—”

The rapt attention of my co-workers snaps in two when the first strip of paper drops from the window. My lips clamp shut. The only thing being revealed in the window is Seamus and he’s grinning down at Jordyn like it’s Christmas morning and she’s the pile of presents beneath the tree. “This motherfucker,” she mutters, waving her hand at the admiring custodian to hurry up and finish stripping down the paper. “Uh-uh. Nobody wants to look at you. Keep moving.”

Seamus chuckles, the sound muffled by glass, and he tugs down another strip. Now some of the design begins to come into view behind him. The swarms of butterflies dangling from invisible fishing line from the ceiling. The refracted light being projected on every wall, courtesy of the mirror pieces adhered to the floor. Another piece of paper comes down and there’s half of the red dress, then eventually the whole thing. I went with a vintage black metal wire form with an antique stand, unearthed from the bowels of Vivant’s storage space in the basement and I mentally rejoice in that choice now, because in the early morning light, the throwback to the past makes the display look as though it has been transported here from another time and place.

“Oh,” Jordyn whispers. “Wow. I was bracing myself just in case it sucked, but you went the hell off. It’s beautiful, Stella. If you don’t get hired full time, I’ll wear elf ears until January.”

The manager of the lingerie department turns with a thumbs up, swiveling back around quickly so she doesn’t miss the next length of paper coming down. And then it’s completely revealed, for everyone to see. Somehow I know without looking that Aiden is standing beside me and I flex my fingers, brushing them up against his bigger ones. Briefly, his middle finger snags around mine and holds, before we drop our hands away.

I gather my courage and look up and over at his face, finding him transfixed by the window, but saying nothing. Holding my breath, I follow his line of vision to the bold, copper-colored stenciled lettering on the glass. Give them a new beginning.

An odd sound reaches my ears and I realize everyone is clapping for me.

Oh God.

There’s a rise of pressure under my breastbone that I don’t know how to handle. Hot moisture pushing on the backs of my eyes, threatening to come out. Blinking rapidly, I swallow hard and say thank you, my face flushing when I clearly sound like I’m trying not to cry.

Why? Because you designed one good window?

Nicole’s voice filters in through everyone’s hushed chatter and makes a roost in my head. Maybe this time I even invited her voice, needing it to bring me back down to earth before I get carried away. That’s what my best friend always used to do. She’d remind me how fleeting the high from an achievement could be, while our friendship was forever. It’s hard to allow myself the moment. It’s hard not to temper this rush of satisfaction with a reminder like, yes, but your next window could be terrible. But when I look back at Aiden and find him smiling down at me with untampered pride, I shut out the negative voices, including the loudest one. For now. And I let myself coast on this wave of happiness. Relief.

“I don’t get speechless very often, Stella,” he says, shaking his head. “But damn. I don’t have the words to do it justice.”

“This calls for vodka,” Jordyn stage whispers to the group, garnering their attention. “Happy hour drinks after work.”

“Done.”

“I’m in.”

“Coffeeeee.”

Jordyn gives my arm a final pat, then joins the rest of the managers. I’m left standing beside Aiden, and I savor the next few seconds. The dash of cabs racing down the avenue behind us. The icy wind on my cheeks. The smell of bagels and garlic and perfume and gasoline that seems to forever linger in the atmosphere of the city. I savor the momentary lack of imposter syndrome and marvel over the giant opening it leaves behind. The endless possibilities of what I could fit inside of that unoccupied gap.