“I miss seeing you around here, kiddo.” Unu handed her a mug of black coffee and sat beside her.
“Oh, baby, I miss you, too,” Casey said, and she reached over and kissed him. “How are you?” she asked, feeling as if it had been a long time since she’d carefully thought about him. The frenetic summer program was packed with a wide variety of assignments and after-hours mixers. The first two weeks had zoomed by, leaving her breathless.
“Hey, you know what? I’m going to finish making that book on transportation today for Karyn, so I’ll sneak out early and take tomorrow off. If I drop off the assignment on her chair when she’s out and hide in the bathroom stall for a bit, I might not get weekend duty.” Casey raised her eyebrows and exhaled. “I can’t keep up this pace, and besides, I want to go to church on Sunday. Maybe we can have dinner tonight? Even go out. I got paid . .” Casey hesitated, not wanting him to feel bad about spending money. He hadn’t found work yet.
“Go away with me,” he said. “Tonight.”
“What?” She smiled in her confusion.
“To Foxwoods. You’ve never been there. We’ll get comped a room, and I’ll teach you how to play blackjack. Pack an overnight bag now, and I’ll keep it in the car, and we’ll drive from your office. It’ll be fun. And baby, I want to see you more.” Unu looked at her thoughtfully. “I think we need a date.” He moved closer and put his hands inside her bathrobe. He put his mouth on her neck, and Casey closed her eyes.
“I have to get to—”
“Shhhh,” he whispered.
Joseph McReed stood by the barbershop on Lexington Avenue, shifting his weight between his feet, his hands resting on the aluminum walker. His bus came, but he let it pass. It was a breezy June morning, and the wind caught the wisps of his white hair and blew it about his face pleasantly. Not that he expected many customers in his bookshop on a Saturday in the summer months, but he preferred to be there rather than at home by himself. He was certain that he would see her today, so when Casey walked briskly toward him a few moments later, he didn’t regret his decision to wait.
“You did come. How are you?”
“Were you waiting?” she asked, thinking that it would be lovely to be on a bus with him even for a little while. She looked forward to seeing him on Saturday mornings.
“Not long,” he said cheerfully. “How are you, dear?”
“I’m fine. This job is tough, though. I just have to nail that offer.”
“I guess you do,” he said, smiling. “I brought you something.” He lifted up a hatbox. Casey hadn’t noticed that he’d been carrying it with the hand that still leaned on the walker.
“Did you bring me a hat? One of Hazel’s?”
“Yes, I had to. It’s insufferable watching you wear these business-lady clothes. I’ve no taste for them,” he said, laughing. “I don’t think you’ll ever wear this hat to work, but I did promise to bring you one of Hazel’s hats. There are so many of them in the house.”
“Thank you. It’s so kind of you.” Casey felt intensely curious about what might be in the black hatbox, having seen marvelous old hats at FIT that her teachers had brought in as examples.
“This one she bought in London.” On the side of the round box, “Lock & Co. Hatters. St. James Street. London” was printed in old-fashioned type.
“May I?” She pointed at the box.
“Of course, you goose.”
Casey lifted the lid, and in it was a dove gray hat, like a top hat that a man might have worn to the opera at the turn of the century, but with a shorter crown. The band was a charcoal color. “Oh my. This is the most amazing—amazing thing.” Casey held it forth with both hands in wonder. It was a thing of great beauty in its craftsmanship and design.
“I think she wore it only once. It might be something a person wears for riding. My brother-in-law, John, thought it resembled a bridegroom’s wedding hat. I’m not sure. But Hazel loved this hat. She always had it out on a stand so she could see it. You know, it was the most costly hat she ever bought, too.” Joseph closed his eyes briefly at the memory of his wife in that hat. How pretty she had looked, how full of personality. She had been so girlishly proud to own a hat from the most famous hatmaker in England.
Carefully, Casey put it on her head. She looked at Joseph shyly, awaiting judgment. It was remarkable in its good fit. Head sizes were curious things and difficult to predict.