another window display. The fifties display had gone over well and she was toying with the idea of hiring live models the next time.
âLive models?â I said, astonished. I pulled up a stool at the counter, enjoying the way the shop looked in the early morning hours. The display bins were gleaming, everything was polished to perfection, and the sunlight was slanting across the oak floor. âDo you mean theyâll pretend to be mannequins?â
âYes, exactly! I spent a summer in Atlanta and one of my friends did a department store window display with students from the local college. They didnât charge much, and all they had to do was hold a pose for twenty minutes.â
âTwenty minutes?â Ali said doubtfully. âI donât know, that sounds like a long time to me.â
âItâs not like they have to hold their
breath
,â Dana teased. âThey just have to stand still. Look, itâs easy.â She struck a saucy pose, with one hip out, her head thrown back, her hand touching her glossy black ponytail. I was amazed that she was absolutely motionless.
âVery eye-catching,â I told her. âBut are you sure they can do it?â
âI like it. Very cute. It will draw in the tourists,â Ali added.
Dana ignored both of us, kept her pose, standing as still as a statue. She didnât even blink. I had to admire her ability to focus.
Barney strolled over and stared at her curiously, probably marveling at the strange antics of his human guardians. He rubbed his whiskery face against Danaâs bare leg and tried to nuzzle her shoe, but she still didnât move a muscle. Barney looked up at her, puzzled, his brow furrowed. I glanced at the clock; sheâd been motionless for a full minute.
How in the world does she do this?
âOkay, Dana, youâve convinced me.â I clapped my hands, startling Barney, who dashed under one of the candy bins. Both Barney and Scout are rescues, and although theyâre socialized, they still retain some feral ways. Loud noises and shouting tend to freak them out, and they run for cover. Life on the streets must have been challenging for them, and I think they have flashbacks from time to time.
âSorry, Barney.â He stuck his head out from under the bin and I reached down to let him sniff my hand. When he cautiously emerged, I scooped him into my lap for a quick cuddle. âItâs okay; everythingâs fine,â I reassured him as he began to purr.
Dana relaxed her pose and grinned. âSee? Itâs easy. Anyone can do it.â
âI think youâre amazing.â Ali reached for a batch of poppy seed muffins weâd made the day before. âI guess these werenât big sellers,â she said, peering at them. She lifted out a muffin and tapped it with her finger. âAre these stale?â
âTheyâre not stale,â Dana said. âI had one for breakfast. Theyâre better if you put them in the broiler oven for a couple of minutes, though. And go heavy with the butter and jam.â
âWhat do you honestly think of them?â I asked. âWhy didnât they move?â
âTheyâre a little dry, thatâs all.â Dana poured herself a cup of coffee and joined us at the counter. âDid you use sour cream in the recipe, Ali?â
Ali flushed. Guilty as charged. Whenever she tries to lighten up a recipe, itâs a gamble. I remembered her wheat germâsoy cookies from a few months ago. They were studded with currants and looked like ants on cardboard. I didnât dare serve them to the Dream Club, and we finally fed them to the birds in the back garden. âI tried to do a healthy version with fat-free yogurt. Iâm not sure what happened. I wonder what I did wrong.â
Dana and I exchanged a look. âI think the substitutions are the problem. You know how folks are down here in Savannah,â Dana said apologetically.
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