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since before long the sound of approaching hordes reached her ears.

    Jo had figured Saturday was likely to be busier than Friday, and she was quickly proven right. Building 10 was soon invaded by throngs of shoppers, exclaiming, touching, asking questions, and all thoughts of Linda disappeared from Jo’s mind as she repeated several versions of:

    “Yes, ma’am, those are indeed Swarovski crystals.”

    “No, these earrings are made with yellow sapphire, not amber.”

    “This choker? Only fifty-six dollars, and the beads in it are sterling silver. Something cheaper? How about . . .” and occasionally—

    “Thank you, ma’am,” as she rang up a sale. “Do come back if you decide you want the matching bracelet.”

    Jo was kept so busy that the time flew by. She could hardly believe it when a very familiar voice behind her commented, “Looks like business is brisk.”

    Jo glanced over her shoulder to see Ina Mae Kepner, white hair shining in the sunlight that beamed through the plastic doorway, the sleeves of her peach-colored warm-up pushed to the elbows, ready for action.

    “Brisk enough,” Jo answered, “that I haven’t sat down since I arrived.”

    “Then for heaven’s sake take a break now! I’ll watch things.”

    Jo finished a transaction with the teen who had just bought a pair of Jo’s silver earrings, then turned back to Ina Mae.

    “I’ll be glad to run out for a minute, but I don’t like leaving you on your own for too long.” Jo looked over toward Linda’s booth and Ina Mae nodded.

    “I got the story from Carrie this morning. Don’t worry, I didn’t teach in the elementary schools for close to forty years without growing that necessary second pair of eyes in the back of my head. Nobody plays any tricks while I’m in charge.” Ina Mae’s face took on the stern look of a general preparing for battle—a Viking general—which made Jo laugh.

    “Yes, ma’am, I believe that’s true. Even so, I think I’ll bring back lunch to eat here. Things have been busy enough that having two people here won’t hurt.”

    “All you need to pick up are drinks. Loralee sent along her famous pasta salad with shrimp and snow peas”—Ina Mae held up the bag Jo hadn’t noticed until then—“including, I believe, homemade bread. Better than hot dogs, or whatever you’ll get here.”

    “Actually, the food’s been pretty good. But nothing could be as good as what comes from Loralee’s kitchen.” Jo promised to bring back two large coffees, grabbed her pocketbook, and set off, happy to get her first full look at the sky in four hours.

    When she got back, Ina Mae was helping a customer choose between a turquoise and silver necklace and an elaborately beaded one in shades of blue. “From what you’ve told me,” Ina Mae said in a tone that told Jo she had come close to the end of her patience, “I’d highly recommend the turquoise.” She then gently but firmly withdrew the beaded necklace from the woman’s fingers and set it out of reach.

    “Yes, I think you’re right,” the woman said, and before she could add another qualifying thought Ina Mae was wrapping it up and totaling up the cost.

    As the customer left the booth, pleased but blinking in a “what just happened there” way, Jo came around the counter with the tightly covered coffee cups.

    “I think I just learned a new method in the art of salesmanship,” she said.

    Ina Mae smiled. “Some people need to be told what they want. I could see she’d be here for the next three hours if I’d let her.” She took her coffee and reached back to get Loralee’s plastic lunch dish.

    As Jo helped scoop out the hearty salad onto two paper plates Loralee had sent along, Linda’s voice sailed across the aisle, announcing to no one in particular that after such an extremely busy morning she finally had a chance to open up the box of chocolates from Jack Guilfoil, and how wonderful he had remembered that she loved vanilla