Nice, durable, reinforced panty girdles designed to smooth out unsightly blips and bulges and carefully encase both thighs. Glory Meechum also had a penchant for floral-print dresses. Not demure daisies or elegant roses but big, splotchy prints of indeterminate floral and fauna origin. Certainly not as nature had intended. When Carmela looked out the window Friday morning and saw Glory Meechum steamrolling down Governor Nicholls Street, headed straight for Memory Mine, her first thought was that Shamus’s older sister looked like an overstuffed parlor chair. Then the door flew open, and Glory Meechum exploded inward. Plunking her sturdy black leather Queen-of-England-style purse on the front counter, Glory planted chubby hands on Lycra-encased hips. “You’ve got to help me!” she wailed loudly at Carmela. Keenly aware that both Baby and Tandy were sitting at the back table and that Gabby was close by in the storeroom, Carmela willed herself to stifle any unseemly urge to giggle. The idea of Glory Meechum coming to her for help was over-the-top ridiculous.
