Three Fates

grow, then gave it a little boost of fertilizer.
    Or in this case, bullshit.
    She liked the fact that her team trusted her enough to do so much of the planting.
    If, as expected, those seeds sprouted quickly, there was a great deal to do in a short amount of time. She swung into Wyley’s with a spring in her step, and the clock ticking in her head.
    Before she could ask if her father was available, she heard her mother’s voice. Tia winced, and hated herself for it. Guilt had her moving through the showroom to where Alma was haranguing a clerk.
    “Mother, I didn’t expect to see you here.” She laid her lips lightly on Alma’s cheek. “What a gorgeous vase,” she commented, studying the delicate pansy motif on the vase the clerk was guarding. “Grueby?”
    “Yes.” The clerk slanted Alma a dubious look. “Circa 1905. It’s a particularly fine piece.”
    “I want it boxed up, gift-wrapped and messengered to my home.”
    “Mrs. Marsh,” the clerk began.
    “I don’t want to hear any more about it.” Alma waved the protest aside. “Ellen Foster’s daughter Magda is getting married next month,” she said to Tia. “I asked your father repeatedly to bring home an appropriate wedding gift, but has he bothered? No. So I’m forced to come all the way down here to take care of it myself. The man’s in here every day. The least he could do is take care of one little thing for me.”
    “I’m sure he—”
    “And now,” Alma continued, rolling over Tia, “this young woman refuses to do what she’s told.”
    “Mr. Marsh has given the staff very specific instructions. We aren’t permitted to allow you to take any merchandise valued at more than one thousand dollars. This piece is priced at six thousand, Mrs. Marsh.”
    “I’ve never heard such nonsense. I’m getting palpitations. I’m sure my blood pressure is spiking.”
    “Mother.” Tia’s voice, sharper than either of them expected, had Alma blinking. “This vase isn’t an appropriate gift for the daughter of an acquaintance.”
    “Ellen is a dear friend—”
    “Whom you see perhaps six times a year at social functions,” Tia finished briskly. “Your taste, as always, is impeccable, but this isn’t the right gift. Would you mind telling my father we’re here?” she asked the clerk.
    “Not at all.” Obviously relieved to have reinforcements, the clerk left them alone.
    “I don’t know what’s gotten into you.” Alma’s pretty face shifted from angry to unhappy lines. “You’re so unsympathetic, so harsh.”
    “I don’t mean to be.”
    “It’s that man you’re involved with. That foreigner.”
    “No, it’s not. You’ve let yourself get upset over nothing.”
    “Nothing? That woman—”
    “Was only doing her job. Mother, you can’t come into Wyley’s and pluck something off a shelf because it’s pretty. Now, I’m going to help you find just the right wedding present.”
    “I have a headache.”
    “You’ll feel better when we take care of your errand.” She put an arm over her mother’s stiff shoulders and guided her away. “Look at this lovely teapot.”
    “I want a vase,” Alma said stubbornly.
    “All right.” She led Alma along, and though she was tempted to signal another clerk for help, ordered herself to tough it out. “Oh, this is beautiful.” She spotted a footed vase, and prayed her shaky expertise was in gear. If she missed and picked out something even more valuable, the ordeal would snowball. “It’s so stunning and classic. I think it’s Stourbridge.”
    Carefully, she angled it, tipped it so she could check the tiny price tag. And breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “What a wonderful gift this would be,” she went on quickly as she saw the sulk folding into her mother’s face. “You know, if you gave the other as a gift, they wouldn’t know what they had, so they wouldn’t appreciate the gesture for what it was worth. But something as gorgeous as this, at just the right price, will get full marks.”
    “Well . . .”
    “Why don’t I take care of having it boxed and wrapped for you? Then we’ll see if Father has time to have some tea. It’s been a long time since we’ve been in Wyley’s together.”
    “I suppose.” Alma studied the vase more carefully. “It is very elegant.”
    “Gorgeous.” And at less than four hundred, right in the ballpark.
    “You always had good taste, Tia. I never had to worry about that.”
    “You don’t have to worry about me at