S Is for Silence

fillet. “It’s the color I love,” she said, running a hand along the front fender. The hood ornament looked like an eagle or a hawk in full flight, beak foremost, wings back, speeding through the air in a stylized pose.
    “The color’s custom—only one of its kind. Know what it’s called? ‘Violet Slate.’ I kid you not.”
    Violet flashed him a smile. She made a point of wearing shades of violet: purple, lavender, lilac, mauve. Winston leaned past her and opened the door on the driver’s side, revealing the orchid pink trim on the lower dash panel. “Here, have a seat.” He cranked down the window and then stood back so she could get a better view. The seats were plush, trimmed in a robin’s egg blue with insets and side panels in a pink-and-blue pattern that looked like flame-stitching, the two colors bleeding into each other to form violet shade. When the car had come in, Mr. Cramer had opened the trunk for Kathy, showing her the interior, which was upholstered in the exact same two shades. Even the spare tire in the wheel mount was covered in blue plush, like a tire cozy.
    Violet slid in behind the wheel, hands at ten o’clock and two o’clock, nearly feverish with excitement. “It’s beautiful. I love this!” She ran a reverent hand across the seat. “How much?”
    Winston laughed, thinking she was making a joke.
    “What’s so funny?”
    He stared at the toe of his shoe, looking up at her from under dark lashes, dimples showing, his brow furrowing. “Well, nothing, Mrs. Sullivan, but I believe it’s beyond your means. I know it’s beyond mine.”
    “I’ve got money. ”
    “Not this much,” he said, in a jocular tone, keeping things light. Kathy could see he was trying to cushion her disappointment when he told her the price. She thought Violet was getting a bit above herself, putting on airs. Boy, was she in for a rude surprise.
    Violet’s smile faded. “You think I can’t afford to buy a nice car like this?”
    “I didn’t say that, Mrs. Sullivan. By no means.”
    Kathy couldn’t believe the woman was still pushing the point, but Violet said, “Then answer my question.”
    “Sticker price is $2,375. My boss might be willing to dicker some, but not a lot. Car like this is considered top of the line and there’s not much wiggle room, as we like to say.”
    Kathy checked Violet’s expression, hoping she’d realize how far out of line she was. Violet kept her eyes on Winston, who seemed somewhat distracted by the gap that appeared at the neck of her dress, which was cut low to begin with. She said, “I’d want to take it for a test drive.”
    “Well, sure. We can arrange that.”
    She extended her hand out the window, palm up. “You have the keys?”
    “No, not on me. They’d be in the office…in there,” he said, gesturing unnecessarily.
    “Well, Winston, you’ll have to go and get them. You think you can manage that?” Her tone was silky and flirtatious even though what she said seemed insulting to Kathy’s ear.
    “Unfortunately, my boss has gone to lunch, and I’m the only one on the lot.”
    “And?”
    “And, you know, I can’t just take off, because he left me in charge.”
    “If I’m not mistaken, there’s a mechanic on the premises. Two of them, in fact. What’s that one’s name? Floyd, isn’t it?”
    Both Kathy and Winston checked the service bay where Floyd could be seen, servicing a used car that had just come in. Mr. Padgett had been talking about a trade-in but then decided he’d hold off until fall when the new ’54 models arrived. In the meantime, he’d said he’d just as soon have the cash in hand, so he’d sold it outright.
    Winston seem relieved, as though Violet had given him the perfect out. “Mrs. Sullivan, Floyd can’t work the floor. He wouldn’t know what to do any more than I could go back in the service bay and do his job for him.”
    “Why do I need you? All I’m going to do is drive around the block. Don’t you trust me?”
    Winston’s Adam’s apple dipped. “I do. It’s not that. I just think it’d be better to wait until my boss gets back so you can talk to him. He knows this car inside and out, far better than I do. Besides, if it comes to that, he’s the one who handles all the paperwork, so it only makes sense.”
    “Paperwork?”
    “You know, down payment, terms—stuff like that. You’d have to have your husband come in and sign.”
    Violet was amused. “Why? Foley doesn’t have a dime. I intend