Day 9, cont'd from Day 8

"Right, well," Joyce said, temporarily incensed, "guess I'll get going." She gathered up her heap of makeup apron, sweater, and oversized purse, and made her way outside of our little kiosk. She lingered, though, straightening up a few bottles of fingernail polish. Luckily "Bram" was still chatting intently with the pharmacist.

"Listen, Eva, dear," Joyce started, staring hard at the bottles of fingernail polish. "You'd do well to find yourself a good man. You're young now, but..." she let her voice trail off. Joyce and I had been chummy ever since I started working at the drug store a few weeks ago, but hadn't ever really had a heart to heart before. "Anyway, you should give that fellow a chance. Talk to him a little. He really is sweet on you." She finally looked up at me from the fingernail polish, and was grinning. "And such dimples! Is he ever a cute one!"

I felt my face flush as I nodded my head. "Sure is, Joyce," I admitted. "Have a good night!"

"See you tomorrow, dear," she said, shuffling off.

I was fairly sure I understood what she was getting at, though. I started straightening the makeup brushes and compacts, picking up where Joyce had left off with the fingernail polish. Catching the attention of someone who could... well, let's say, someone who was a good catch. Well, that was something not to be shrugged off. I mean, I didn't think I'd end up like Joyce some day, with the makeup counter as my only little oasis away from my lonely life. Well, at least, that may be where I was in my life right now, but...

"Well, hello again, Eva," a familiar voice broke me out of my reverie.

"You must be Bram," I said, trying to make sure he knew I knew his name.