Murder on Consignment Read Online Free PDF

able to form an inverted “V” with my body. Then, with one final hoist, I was upright. I turned and scurried the best I could down the hall; Sarah’s laughter following me all the way.
    I changed in record time and was waiting by the car when mom finally came out of the shop. “Phillipena, what in the world is going on with you? I’m so embarrassed. Not to mention the dress. Who knows if they’ll be able to fix it now? You tore the side seam. Then, you just left it waded up on the floor of the…”
    I held up my hand. “I know. I’m sorry, okay? Let’s just get out of here.”
    We rode in silence for a few blocks before she asked me, “Who was that woman in the bridal gown, anyway? Do you know her?”
    “She’s Sean’s new girlfriend…or fiancé, I guess. Sarah Maloney.”
    “Oh, I see,” she said. “I thought you were over him.”
    “Well, I’m not, okay?  Let’s drop it.” My voice was shaky and tears were threatening to spill. I shifted in my seat, turning my face away and pretended to study the passing scene out my window.
    She sighed, “Can I treat you to some lunch? Wong’s Stir Fry is just down the road. I know how you love stir fry.”
    Ugh. I used to eat there all the time with him . Of course, there really wasn’t any place I hadn’t been with him. In the three plus years we dated, Sean and I practically ate our way through all of Naperville and several of the nearby burbs. “No thanks, Mom. I’m really not up to it. Besides, I’ve got a lot of work I should be doing.”
    Her posture stiffened slightly. I knew she wasn’t going to let the issue drop. “I understand,” she started, paused, and then had to add, “but let’s talk about this. Tell me what’s going on with you. I’ve noticed that you haven’t been dating at all these days. If you’ve been holding out for Sean, well…you can let that go now. Obviously, he’s serious about this girl or she wouldn’t be trying on wedding gowns.”
    I groaned. “Please, Mom, please! I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “I’m just saying it’s not healthy, that’s all. You should be moving on by now. Do you remember when your sister broke up with that boy from DePaul, what was his name…?”
    I sighed. “Bobby Nolan.”
    “Yes, that’s right. Bobby Nolan. Anyway, Anne was completely heartbroken. She was so sure she’d never find anyone else and look at her now. She’s found a wonderful husband, lives in a great neighborhood, and is already expecting … blah … blah … blah .” 
    I tuned her out, my mind veering off on its own path. That would be the path to destruction, or more specifically self-destruction. I was working myself into a terrible funk allowing my thoughts to dwell on my ex’s pending nuptials and my own lonely, pathetic existence.
    “Phillipena, are you listening to me?” I snapped back to attention. “I was saying that you should join that singles group at church. I’m sure there are a lot of nice men there.”
    Thank goodness we were pulling into the driveway. “That’s a great idea, Mom. I’ll look into it,” I promised as I hopped out and headed immediately for the hedges that separated my parents’ yard from the back alley and the entrance to my above-garage apartment.
    “I’ll let you know when the final fitting is scheduled,” she yelled after me. “And don’t forget to call the church!”
    *
    I immediately peeled off my shopping outfit, planning to wash and return it to my resale stockpile as soon as possible. After throwing on my most comfy stretch pants and a favorite hoodie, I went directly to the fridge and stopped. There, stuck with a magnet was the note I hung the previous day, CHECK YOUR EMOTIONS. It was to remind me to stop and think about my emotional state before opening the fridge. I got the idea the other day while I was standing in the checkout line at ValueMart, stocking up on chocolate and soda. One of the magazines boasted the headline— No More Emotional Food