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Reaching for the door, I flung it open. “Gladys!”

The bell rang, and she popped up from behind her counter, holding a candelabra. Her bun had fallen out, her hair cascading past her shoulders. I walked to the counter on a mission. She hadn’t stopped polishing the silver when I reached her, leaning on the counter with a mischievous grin.

“Looks like somebody’s got a bee in their bonnet.”

“Gladys, I have an emergency.” She didn’t seem intrigued. “A clothing emergency.”

The cloth dropped from her hand, and she set the antique candle holder to the side. “I’m listening.”

“The jazz concert. I need a suit.”

“I’m sure you have plenty of nice suits.”

“Sure.” I couldn’t hold back the grin. I knew the moment I spoke the words, I’d be entering into a chaotic afternoon. “I need an antique suit. Something??—”

“Jazz worthy!” The fire had been lit. She shot upright, glancing back and forth around her shop. I could almost see her flipping through the mental inventory. They might not be her best sellers, tucked away somewhere in a trunk, but darn it, she knew exactly where to find them.

“I have just the thing.” She started down the aisle, where she found my jacket. “No. Those won’t do. What about…” She spun about and headed toward the other wall. “Follow me.”

Gladys moved with purpose. She shimmied past two bureaus, climbed over a wooden bed frame, and reached a wall lined with old trunks.

By the time I caught up, she had already pulled out clothes.

The smell of old wood and dust-covered garments nearly made me sneeze.

There wasn’t a nook or cranny in this shop that didn’t hold repurposed treasures.

“So, you’re going all out on your date?”

“I am.” It wasn’t enough to ask Bobby on a date. He needed to see the lengths I’d go to make every moment with him a memory worth recording. “I’m going to need something for him as well.”

“Couples’ outfits?” Gladys all but swooned at the idea. “I’m thinking Bobby might be the lucky one.”

“I assure you… that’s me.”

She pulled out a plastic bag and unzipped it. “Here. This. I don’t even need to see it on you. It’s perfect. But for Bobby…” She hemmed and hawed as she thought about the conundrum.

“Go try it on. I have an idea.”

“Gladys, I knew you’d deliver.”

“I always do!” She shoved the bag into my arms before bolting to the back of the store. She swung open a door, and I could hear her sneakers thumping up the stairs. There was another level? What else could she possibly have that she couldn’t fit down here?

I walked to the changing room, pulling the curtain closed.

With the bag on the hook, I opened it and inspected the outfit.

I shouldn’t have doubted her. I stripped and pulled the pants on.

Tight but doable. I pulled the suspenders over my shoulders, locking them into place.

The knot in the tie vexed me until I gave up, leaving it hanging around my neck.

I grabbed the jacket and stepped into the store, staring at the full-length mirror. It was damn near perfect. It far surpassed anything I would have been able to get from the costume department.

“Who taught you how to dress?”

Gladys hung a garment back on the changing room rack and came back to me. Personal space be damned. Gladys reached into my pants, tucking in my shirt. When she finished there, she started in on the tie.

“I bet you have an assistant who ties your ties.”

If she looked at the photos of me in every magazine, I always opted for an open collar. I’d lie and say it was for comfort, but to this day, I had never successfully managed a tie. They were evil devices that never laid flat or hung at the right??—

“There you go.”

She gave me a shove toward the mirror. “Gladys, it’s perfect.” I’d let the tightness in the waistband go, especially with how it framed my ass. She held up the jacket, sliding it over one arm and then the other.

“You two are going to be adorable.”

Had she found an outfit for Bobby? “Did you find another suit?”

She grabbed the second bag and handed it to me. “I didn’t have anything else in the store.” She rested her hand on the white bag, a sad smile appearing. “It belonged to my father.”

Oh! “Gladys, I can’t take??—”

“It’ll look wonderful on Bobby.” My chest tightened as I realized the trust that came with her gift.

Another story would live on. She reached up, wiping a tear from her eye.

With a steadying breath, she nodded. “He loved a good night out.

It'd make him happy to know somebody continued making memories in it.”

I finally understood. Every item, every piece of furniture, every quilt—they all had a story etched on their surface.

Gladys had made it her mission to ensure their stories didn’t stop there.

She had become the steward of folks long since passed.

They’d be remembered as each piece found a new lease on life.

I wrapped her in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“Could you do me a favor and deliver it for me?”

When she pulled back, she wiped both cheeks. “Look at what you did. You got me all worked up.” Grabbing the bag, she hooked it over her shoulder. “I’ll make sure he gets it.”

Staring in the mirror, I couldn’t wait to see his face. Was I going over-the-top for a high school jazz concert? Quite possibly. Would we be the talk of the town? Yup. Firefly deserved no less.