1
Holly O’Neill always figured that life was just like a snow globe. From the outside things looked peaceful; until you shook it and everything inside got jumbled up.
She pressed her nose closer to the windowpane as a delicate snowflake landed on the glass in front of her before quickly dissolving into nothingness.
Holly loved the first snowfall of the year. It meant that Christmas would be here soon – time for curling up next to warm log fires in her cosy walk-up apartment. It meant twinkling lights, mulled wine and pink cheeks, while immersed in a bustling city made all the more romantic under a blanket of snow.
Closing her eyes, she imagined the goodwill that seemed to automatically blossom in Manhattan when the temperatures outside dropped, and general feelings of cheer permeated. She smiled in anticipation of the holiday season and wondered what fantastic things the snow would bring with it.
‘Mom! I can’t find my iPod!’
Holly opened her eyes and quickly brought herself back to reality. Smiling, she turned from the window at the same moment the door to the living room flew open to reveal a ten year old in the midst of a technological-related meltdown.
‘I don’t know where I put it, and I need it now. I just downloaded a new Kanye song and I want Chris to listen to it at school.’ Her son Danny stood before her, his bright blue eyes wide with worry, and the dark brown hair that Holly had already so diligently smoothed down with water once again in the throes of bed-head.
‘Danny, calm down - I borrowed it, it’s right there.’ She pointed to the antique rosewood side table that she had rescued from certain doom at a thrift store on Canal Street.
He raised his eyebrows sceptically. ‘You … borrowed my iPod?’ He went to retrieve the little device and quickly turned it on, as if to make sure his technologically challenged mother hadn’t done anything to time-warp it back to a long-forgotten era. ‘I didn‘t know you even knew how to use it.’
Holly puffed out her chest. ‘Now, I’ll have you know, I have truly mastered the BlackBerry Carole bought me for my birthday.’ She thought back to her boss’s attempt at bringing Holly into the twenty-first century, thinking it would be valuable for her to have a way to easily manage the client list, deliveries and other goings-on at The Secret Closet, the Greenwich vintage store in which she worked.
‘Only cause I taught you, Mom,’ smiled Danny sheepishly as he scrolled through his playlist. ‘Uh, who is Dean Martin?’ he asked, as if he had just smelled something bad.
Holly threw up her hands in mock disbelief. ‘A son of mine who doesn’t know who Dean Martin is? “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie that’s … Amore!”’ she sang while Danny rolled his eyes.
‘A song about pizza? Weird.’
Holly giggled. ‘It’s not about pizza; it’s about love. Listen to it, I downloaded it. I think my record must be somewhere in storage because I can’t find it.’
‘I’ll listen to it, if you listen to Kanye.’
Holly laughed. ‘Ha, quite the negotiator as usual. Maybe later, sweetheart, but we need to go soon. I’m running late, and the store has a shipment coming in this morning.’
Her son sat down on Holly’s expertly made bed, which was hidden behind a pretty silk curtain in the living room. She had given Danny the apartment’s only bedroom so he could have space for his things and privacy.
‘I don’t get it.’
‘Don’t get what, honey?’ Holly asked as she perused her closet, looking for the vintage Dior jacket she had salvaged from the bottom of a heap at work. Her employee discount was the only way she could afford beautiful clothes from another era, or more importantly, keep Danny in shoes and pay rent.
‘Why do people want to buy other people’s old stuff?’
Holly sighed. This was a conversation they had had many times before and, as always, she tried to explain about the appeal of vintage clothes, things that had a real history and had been worn when their previous owners fell in love, when they cried, and all throughout life’s great adventures. She truly believed the clothes that passed through the store were each unique in their own way: they had a personality; they had lived.
Danny, however, being a young boy, only truly loved the new Nikes on his feet.
‘Someday you will understand – or, more likely, you will meet a girl who understands.’
Danny rolled his eyes, a typical response. He was still at the age when girls were considered ‘gross’. Holly figured that in a couple of years or so, he would be singing a different tune.
‘Whatever, Mom.’
‘Whatever, you’ll see. Many a man comes into our store desperately searching for a handbag, or a scarf, or a dress that his girlfriend, fiancée or wife saw and just simplycan’tlive without. Someday that will be you. Rummaging through a store like ours in search of a particular handbag.’
‘Not a chance. I’mnevergoing to like a girl who is into handbags.’
Holly found the jacket that she had been searching for and turned around to face her son, a grin on her face. ‘Ha, that’s sort of like saying you only like fish that don’t swim. It’s simply not possible.’
Danny shrugged and conceded a tiny smile. ‘Well, I guess as long as she doesn’t make me listen to pizza music it might be OK.’
