Home Safe Read Online Free Page A

ruffled collar, delicately balancing on top of a huge, striped ball. There is the ringmaster with his too sparse mustache, cracking—
    “Ma'am?” the clerk says.
    “Sorry,” she says.
    “I was just showing you this?” She points to a cleverly wrapped gift on the counter, and asks if Helen would like any of her purchases gift-wrapped. Helen says no, she wants to get home before the traffic starts, but she tells the clerk she appreciates the fact that the gift wrap is so charming. “I really like this store,” she says, smiling.
    “You know, we're hiring for the holidays,” the clerk says.
    “Well, I … Yes.” Helen smiles, shrugs.
    “Would you like an application?”
    “Okay,” Helen says, before she can stop herself. Christmas help is temporary. It's already November 15; she'll only work here for a few weeks. And never mind what Tessa said earlier; she would love it if she could use Helen's discount.
    The woman hands her an application and Helen leans forward to ask quietly, “Do you like working here?”
    The woman's face goes deadly serious and she says, “Oh. My. God. I love it. I came here from this other store? And this one is so much better? This is, like, the best job I ever had, ever.”
    Well , Helen thinks. There's an endorsement . She starts to fold up the application to put in her purse, but then she sees how easy it is, how brief, and she goes to sit on a sofa beside a young man to fill it out. When she has finished, she hands it back to the clerk, who says, “Our manager is interviewing today? If you'd like to wait?”
    Helen goes back to the sofa where she filled out the application and sits down. The young man has left. She glances over at the housewares department, at the dishes, the aprons, the linens, the furniture. She likes everything she sees. Really, it might be fun to work here, she wouldn't be the only older person, she could have lunch with the other woman who applied today, they might become friends; she and Midge and the woman could all go out to lunch and talk about … What? What kinds of stories would come from here? Maybe all that will happen is that Helen will stand around folding and refolding sweaters, checking and rechecking her watch.
    And now, she suddenly feels foolish, nearly angry. An “interview” on a sofa stationed in the middle of the store for a job working with infants! What a silly idea, to think that she should apply here. What should she do, put her gray hair in ponytails and wear stylish jeans under short-sleeved, ruffled dresses that reveal her arm fat? (Hoppy and Gene, Midge calls her swinging flesh, but Helen has not quite gotten to that level of acceptance.) Should Helen speak in declarative sentences that sound like questions? Should she go countless times into trashed dressing rooms to clean out piles of clothes someone threw on the floor? Discuss with her co-workers the relative merits of nose rings? She looks over at the checkout counter, where the girl who helped her is now busy with someone else, and walks quickly out of the store. Then, remembering the sweater she bought her daughter, she calls Tessa to see if she can stop by for a minute.
    “Oh, Mom, I'm sorry, but I'm on deadline,” Tessa says. “I can't stop working.”
    “That's okay,” Helen says. “I just want to give you something. I have to get home. I don't even want to come in.”
    “What do you want to give me?” Tessa's voice is guarded. She has told her mother over and over not to bring her things, she appreciates the effort, but she just really doesn't need anything—her place is small, she's trying to reduce clutter, she doesn't need anything . Nonetheless almost every time Helen visits she brings something: a coffee mug, a book, leftovers from Helen's dinners (she has still not learned how to cook for one), striped paper clips, a little pack of Paris-themed stationery, bed socks. At first, Tessa took these things graciously; then she began to sigh when she took them;