“Can we buy the shirts now or only after the auction?”
“Now is fine,” I said. Claire looked from the shirts to the posters to the guests enjoying themselves a little too much. She realized the situation had turned public in a way she couldn’t control.
“How much to end this?” she asked quietly. “Are you saying you want to buy everything?” I asked. She gave a single, jerky nod.
“Five thousand,” I said. “Same as the damage.”
She tapped her phone with short, rigid movements. A moment later, mine buzzed.
Payment received.
I lifted the phone, so the screen faced the room. “Auction closed! Claire has purchased the entire Claire Collection.”
Laughter rippled through the space. Claire began gathering materials with quick, clipped motions.
She stacked brochures, pulled the posters off the wall without caring whether the foam board bent, and swept the T-shirts into her arms. “This is ridiculous,” she said as she loaded the pile against her chest. “You’re making a spectacle out of nothing.”
“It’s remarkable how much ‘nothing’ can cost,” someone murmured.
Claire left with the materials pressed to her ribs. For a moment, the room held a mix of surprise and the kind of laughter people try to smother but can’t. Then, a neighbor cleared her throat.
She held up a pile of shirts.
Everyone wanted one. Someone called it “memorabilia from the most unforgettable housewarming ever.”
I could’ve shut it down, but I didn’t. And every time I see my neighbor walking her dog while wearing a shirt from the Claire Collection, I can’t help but smile.
Was the main character right or wrong? Let’s discuss it in the Facebook comments.
