“My point stands.”
Ava growled and turned away, heading back into the dressing room.
“It’s not that bad,” Dahlia said.
Marianne looked to Lydia. “I like it,” Lydia said.
“When Hazel is fifteen, I’m buying her low rise jeans and a coordinating thong.”
“A crop top is not those things,” Lydia said.
“Let’s just go,” Ava said, reappearing and breezing past Marianne.
“We don’t need to go. We have to choose things for school. I don’t want to order them online, because you’re just going to complain. And you don’t want anything that I carry in The Apothecary because it’s old lady clothes.”
“Which is why I don’t want your opinion on my clothes,” Ava said. “Because you like old lady clothes.”
Marianne felt her temper begin to boil over. “Oh, Ava. I am the crypt keeper. Of your nightmares. We can finish this trip and I will be your ATM machine, only because you need clothes but you are soooo grounded. This old lady will take everything you love. You can shop with Dahlia. Lydia and I are going to go get candy bars. And you can’t have any.”
And for the first time maybe ever, Marianne had sympathy for her own mother. Maybe the distance had been her fault. Maybe she had been so mean that she had pushed her mother away. Maybe she hadn’t recognized good intentions. Because she had good intentions.
“Are you really not going to give her any candy?” Lydia asked.
“Yeah,” Marianne said. “It’s my candy.”
“Fair enough,” Lydia said.
Then Lydia grabbed her arm and bumped into her with her shoulder. “Thanks.”
“What?”
“Thanks for letting me borrow your problems for the afternoon. It feels kind of normal.”
“Well, I’m glad I could help with something.”
She might not be able to do anything right for Ava, but at least she had done something helpful for her sister.
They finished at the store, and Marianne ended up not even looking at Ava’s clothes. But she did toss her a candy bar when they got in the car. They drove to a small burger place that was just down the road. It was a tiny little shack of a building, always overflowing with people. The kind of place where people who didn’t come together ended up sharing tables. They all ordered hamburgers and went and sat on a picnic bench outside. The kids, including Ava, sat in the grass away from them. Riley and Hazel were throwing French fries at each other and picking weeds, Ava was looking at her phone.
“Thanks,” Lydia said. “For distracting the kids.” She smiled. “This is the first... This is the first thing that I’ve done that wasn’t work or just going to Mom and Dad’s.”
“Well, I’m glad to help,” Ruby said, beaming.
“Thank you for providing counsel to my teenager,” Marianne said to Dahlia, and she supposed she should just be grateful that Ava did have Dahlia to look up to. She hadn’t had a female relative she had considered cool that she could confide in. Or get fashion advice from.
“No problem. It’s kind of validating to know that a fifteen-year-old thinks that I’m... Very retro?”
“Wow,” Marianne said. “Isn’t your stuff kind of vintage 1996?”
“Yes. The nineties are retro.”
“That hurts,” Lydia said, frowning.
“I remember telling Mom the seventies were retro,” Marianne said. “History repeats and repeats and repeats, and I’m in the most annoying part of it, I swear.”
“Speaking of history,” Dahlia asked. “Marianne, what do you know about the building that The Apothecary’s in?”
“It’s been about a hundred things,” Marianne answered, turning her focus to her business, which was a much less complicated situation. “But it was a jewelry shop first. When the town was built in the eighteen hundreds.”