The Sale

“Garage sale day!” I called out, even if there was nobody to hear me. I had barely opened my eyes, and realized it was Saturday, my first Saturday off work in two months! I had planned a special morning of garage sale hopping. A little squeal of anticipation jumped out of my mouth as I jumped out of bed. I was brushing my teeth when the alarm I had set to wake me up went off.
Thirty minutes later I was on the road, talking to myself. “Hm… no sales?” I’d stopped for a coffee and breakfast sandwich (a delicious part of my garage sale ritual) and now I was cruising residential streets looking for signs. “It’s still early, I guess,” I told myself as I looked down to see “7:30” on my dashboard clock. And then I saw it; the first sign of the day. I followed directions and found the place quickly. “Good morning!” I said cheerily, as I extracted my long legs from the driver’s side and headed up the driveway. It was the first thing I’d said to anybody but myself in almost 12 hours.
Four and a half hours later it had turned into a very hot and sunny morning. Garage sale hosts and hostesses had lowered and re-lowered all their expected values and I could practically see the “closed” signs going up behind their eyes as they melted in the sun. I was getting tired, too, but I still didn’t have that ‘zing!’ item. I was going to give it one last try.
A moment later I saw another sign. Following the arrows from sign to sign, I finally pulled up along one last garage sale. It was in front of a pretty cottage with an inviting front porch. Whoever lived there obviously had a knack for nurturing living things. The yard was full of greenery with other colors dabbled in here and there, all artfully arranged in a stunning display.
“Good Morning!” I called as I slowly meandered up the drive, eyeing clothing, dishes, decorations, and other goods that lined the driveway.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” a short woman lounging in a lawn chaise called back.
That surprised me, not a lot of people would describe a day that threatened to crisp you around the edges “beautiful”. I smiled, “It sure is. Are you having a good sale?”
“Oh, yes!” She said, rising. “I’ve helped several people today find what they were looking for!” Her upbeat self-assured manner was disarming. “Did you find what you’ve been looking for yet?” she asked me pleasantly.
“I found a few nice things.” I responded, “But I’m always on the lookout for that special something.” I added.
“And did you find anything special?” She asked, walking nearer.
“Well, I found a CD I’ve been wanting for years, but couldn’t bring myself to pay full price for. A few DVDs, some shorts and a skirt.” I started. She was so friendly that I just found myself rambling on, “Oh, and several books. A pretty blue ceramic decorative vase, a necklace, and a few other small trinkets.” I said, finally able to stop the freight train of blather spilling out of my lips. I pushed a strand of brown hair back behind my ear, a nervous habit.
She was still smiling, though; a genuinely interested smile. “It doesn’t sound like you’ve found anything that really sparks you up inside.”
And she was right. I was pleased about what I’d found, but nothing had really given me any spark of real joy.
“I have some things here for children, and some things my husband and sons have grown out of.” She offered.
“Oh, no.” I demurred, “I don’t have a husband, or children.”
“No significant other?” she pressed gently, gesturing to a few things decorated in symbols of love.
I laughed lightly at the prospect. “No. Always looking, but not yet.”
She smiled knowingly, and then a spark of excitement flashed in her eyes. “You know, I think I have a sundress that would look lovely on you!” I expected her to head over to one of the tables with clothes on it, but she turned into the garage to a rack of hanging clothes I hadn’t noticed before.
“Here!” she said, handing me a pink and white sundress, and then added, almost as an afterthought, “…and I have the perfect shoes to go with it!” and again surprised my by going in the opposite direction of the shoes I’d seen on the drive. She leaned down under the table and pulled out a stunning pair of white ballet flats rimmed in the softest iridescent trim I had ever seen.
“They’re beautiful!” I said, and meant it. “And they look brand new; but,” I added, assessing our obvious difference in height and size, “will they fit… ?” I was more worried about the beautiful shoes – I couldn’t find a size, but they looked small to me. The shorter woman also looked like she wore a size six, and I was usually closer to a size ten.
“They’re the perfect size,” She said, winking. “Go ahead and try them on.” She gestured to a little changing area set up in the back.
I gasped as the dress slid perfectly onto my frame, and the shoes fit as though they were made from a mold of my feet! “I’ve never worn anything I liked so much!” I gushed. “How much?” I asked, a little hesitantly.
“If you buy the dress for $20, I’ll give you the shoes for free.”
“Sold!” I said, feeling like I’d won the lottery. “And I don’t need to change back into my other clothes.”
I gave her my last $20 bill and thanked her. She waved goodbye, and as I walked down the drive she called, “And don’t worry, with those shoes your live will be filled with someone to love in no time!” I turned back just in time to see her wink. And floated home.