The sea of clothes spread out before me is nirvana for a lot of people. Racks upon racks of tops, bottoms, dresses, and everything in between fills the store. Varying colors and patterns bleed together and give me a headache. How do people choose among so many options? Basic black works just fine for most situations.
Last night, as I was leaving, Olivia talked me into going shopping with her at the mall. Her sons are at school and the bakery is closed today, so she has the morning free.
It is my day off and I am at the mall.
“Oh look at this! It will look gorgeous on you!” She holds up a frothy blouse to my face. “The pale peach color against your ivory skin looks amazing.”
Really? I peer closer at the top.
“It’s silk, so it needs extra care but feel this texture. It’s so worth it.”
I finger the sleeve and I must admit the soft delicate material is nice. My idea of buying clothes is to wait until I am down to basically nothing to wear then go online and order something that looks good on the woman modeling the clothes and pray it will look half way decent on me when it arrives. Let’s face it, they have models wearing the clothes and everything looks great on them because they are, well, models.
“Try it on.” She holds the blouse out. Taking it, I glance around hoping there won’t be a dressing room in sight, but no such luck, there is one right behind me.
Olivia gives me a slight tap on the shoulder. “Make sure you show me how it looks.”
Do people really do this? Try on clothes and show each other how they look? A woman waltzes out of the dressing room to show two women waiting for her how she looks in the outfit she put on and I realize that yes, they do indeed.
Okay then, it can’t be too hard. I just have to go in there, strip down to my bra in a tiny room with a half door where everyone can see not only from my calves to my toes but my shoulders up. Oh yes, and then I prance out for Olivia to critique how I look.
I sigh and shut the white door with vent slots filling the middle. Was that a decorating style? Because it sure wasn’t for air circulation, there is plenty enough of that in the open space.
The blouse looks good hanging up on the hook. Hopefully it will look at least half as good on me. Glancing around to make sure I am hidden as much as possible, I yank my navy-blue T-shirt over my head and fold it before putting it on the tiny corner shelf. The blouse is smooth and cool as I draw it up my arms. The tiny pearlescent buttons reflect in the lights as I button the blouse. I tuck it into my white jeans not knowing if I should or not, but it seems like a top you tuck in.
“How are you doing Franny?”
I peek over the door. Olivia is standing outside my little compartment.
“Um, okay, I think.” It is hard to tell in the narrow mirror, but it doesn’t look bad.
“Let me see.”
Opening the door, I step back as far as I can in the confined space. Modeling it in here is better than going out into the store.
“I knew it would look great!” Olivia looks me up and down. “Spin around. Let me see the back.”
I present my back and she smooths the material against my lower back and sides.
“There, perfect. Your waist is so tiny. You need to wear more fitted clothes and show it off.”
It is? I do? I look down and peruse my waist. It looks the same as it always does.
“Here, I found these for you to try on too.” The pile of clothes she hangs on the hook momentarily boggles my mind. “This is so much fun.”
The door swings shut, and her blonde ponytail bounces away. An assortment of colors and articles of clothing hang in front of me. She wants me to try all of these on?
The ice-cold water trickles down my throat and soothes the nagging thirst that has grown over the last couple of hours. I tried on all the clothes Olivia fetched me and a few more as well. Several of them now rest in various bags sitting at my feet. Olivia has a few bags herself. We decided to end our shopping excursion at a restaurant in the mall. I must admit the shopping hasn’t been as bad as I expected. I actually had fun and might not be entirely opposed to doing it again. In a few months’ time.
We each order a sandwich and as the waitress strides away, Olivia rests her elbows on the round table and stares at me. “So, tell me what’s going on with you and Mitch Atwater.”
Choking on the swallow of water I just took, I set the glass on the table and wipe the drips of water from my chin.
She smiles and hands me a napkin. “I drove the boys to school this morning because I had to drop off cookies for their end of the year party and one of the other moms sidles up to me and starts pumping me for information about you and the local celebrity. I guess she assumed since I work at the bakery, I would know all about it.”
Licking my lips, I gaze around the restaurant filled with booths and chattering people. What am I supposed to tell her? The sham we’re dating? Certainly not the whole truth. I don’t want to lie to her either. I mean friends aren’t supposed to lie to each other, right? That doesn’t mean they have to spill all their secrets either though does it? Crap, is friendship supposed to be hard?
“Franny?”
“I don’t know what to say. We’re friends.” There that’s the truth.
“Friends, huh? I heard the two of you were strolling along main street hand in hand the other day.”
“Any chance you and Ryan will reconcile?”
Olivia sits back in her chair and smirks. “Okay, I get it. You’re not ready to talk about it yet, but when you are, I want to hear about it, deal?”
“Deal.”
“Ryan and I met my freshman year of college. I got pregnant, dropped out of school, got married, and we tried to make it work, but we were both miserable.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried. It’s just that you two seem to be so close.”
“Don’t apologize. I was prying too. It’s what friends do.” She winks. “Ryan and I are close. We’re much better friends than husband and wife. Which is great because of the boys, but we would still be friends even if we didn’t have the boys keeping us together.”
“You do an admirable job. I’d like to think I could be on good terms with an ex, but I’m not as nice as you.”
Olivia laughs and drinks her iced tea. “You’d be amazed at how much bullshit you can swallow and accept when there are kids involved, but Ryan and I have to work at it. If he ever gets serious about a woman and wants to introduce the boys to her, I will have to learn to bite my tongue a lot.”
“Girlfriends and boyfriends haven’t been introduced yet?”
“No one serious. We’ve both dated a bit. Him, much more than me, but there has been no one serious enough where we’ve had the introducing the boys to them conversation. Ryan and I both agreed before the divorce not to allow anyone into the boys’ lives without letting each other know first and agreeing it was time.”
Our sandwiches arrive and I take a bite of my portobello mushroom sandwich while Olivia starts on her chicken panini. The combination of balsamic vinaigrette, mushroom, and ciabatta roll is tasty. I chose it because I thought it the healthier option, but the taste will make me order it again. Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I wait for Olivia to finish chewing before asking her another question.
“Do you ever think about going back to school? What did you plan on studying?”
“I had no idea what I wanted to do.” She shrugs her shoulders and tilts her head while looking around the restaurant. “Sure, the thought crossed my mind a time or two, but honestly, I love being home for my boys. They drive me crazy at times, but I couldn’t imagine doing it any other way. When they get older, I might consider going back, but it’s not something I miss.”
Scooting my chair forward, I fiddle with the corner of the placemat. “College wasn’t for me, much to my mother’s dismay.”
“But she must be so proud of you owning a successful bakery.”
I manage not to choke again as I take a sip of water. Proud? Uh no, not the word I would use.
“My mother has certain standards and expectations I don’t measure up to. We are very different people.”
“I’m sorry, Franny.”
One corner of the paper placement is curled into a roll, so I shift over to the other side and start again. “It is what it is.”
“It still hurts though doesn’t it? What is it about a parent’s disapproval that haunts us even into adulthood?”
“I don’t know, but if you find the answer, let me know.”
“Hey, that can be my life’s work once the kids are grown. Of course by then it will be my disappointment my kids are dreading. Although I hope I won’t be too demanding.”
“You won’t. Your love and approval for your sons shines through even when your exasperation over their latest mischief is apparent.”
“Thank you. that’s one of the nicest things someone has ever said to me. My boys are my life.”
We finish our sandwiches while chatting of our mutual anticipation of the summer’s arrival. Olivia’s mother babysits the boys so she can still work at the bakery when they aren’t in school. I never realized how much Olivia loves working at the bakery. She expressed interest in learning more about the baking side and I discovered she is an accomplished home baker.
It will be fun to train Olivia. I had planned to hire help in the kitchen farther down the road so I can build the catering side of my business.
Those plans are on hold until I decide about whether or not I should move the bakery.
Bill sent me an email a couple of days ago with potential commercial properties. All were out of town. There was nothing glaringly wrong with any of them.
I should get back to him and have him set up a viewing, but I keep putting it off.
I don’t want to relocate the bakery.
The waitress brings the check and I pull out my wallet to pay.
Olivia pulls her purse off the back of her chair.
I hold up my hand. “It’s my treat. You had me over for dinner, remember?”
She shrugs. “Okay, thanks. We can take turns. Next time it will be my treat.”
After placing the money in the bill folder for the waitress, I rub my thumb up and down in the condensation on the outside of my glass.
If I don’t relocate, then that means I go on renting.
I can do that.
What I can’t do is continue living with my parents.
But if I buy a house, then I’ll have that much less to make Mitch an offer to buy the building when the time comes. That is still my ultimate goal.
I can rent an apartment and still save towards making an offer he can’t refuse.
“You look deep in thought.”
I glance up at Olivia. The waitress picks up the bill folder and I tell her to keep the change. Once she leaves, I grab my purse and stand.
“You know that life plan we were talking about?”
Olivia nods as she rises and pushes in her chair. “Of course.”
“I just came to a few decisions to help it along again.”
“Like what?”
While we walk out of the mall, I tell her about my plans to buy the building and move into the apartment falling through and about hiring a realtor to show me other bakery options and houses.
Olivia stops. “You’re thinking of moving the bakery?”
“I considered it, but I hate the idea. I’m going to find an apartment to rent so I can still move out, but keep the bakery where it is and go on renting until I can afford to offer enough money to prompt Mitch to sell it to me.”
She starts walking again. “Have you talked to Mitch about it? Does he know you planned to buy the building?”
“No, I hadn’t wrapped my head around everything yet. Now that I know moving the bakery isn’t an option I want to explore, I’m going to ask him how much he’ll accept for the building. He’s only staying in the apartment while he renovates the house he bought anyway, so once that’s ready he might be open to selling to me.”
“That makes sense. You should talk to him soon though, then you will know one way or another and how much money you’ll need if he will sell.”
“You’re right.” I should have talked to him sooner, but I had still been in the shocked stage of him showing up and buying my building. Then I moved into the avoidance stage. That didn’t last very long. We moved into the hesitantly open to friendship again stage. Now, where are we? Pretending to be dating for all the wrong reasons.
We reach her car and pile our loot into the backseat. Granite Cove is an hour away from the mall. Olivia insisted on driving, saying she enjoyed it. I could take it or leave it, so I didn’t put up an argument. Olivia sings along with the radio and makes us both laugh. Her voice might not sell many records, but it is nice to listen to in the car. Much better than mine.
I lean back against the seat and gaze out the window. I’m moving forward with my life plan even if it’s not in the way I originally thought. My social life is evolving. Olivia and I have hung out on two occasions and I believe we are friends.
On Sunday, Monica stopped in the bakery and I broached the subject of attending her next book club meeting. She smiled and told me she postponed the last one because a pipe burst under her sink and made a mess, so they rescheduled it for tonight. She asked me to come and I said yes. Sally smiled and gave me her nod of approval.
Monica retrieved her copy of the book they were reading from her car so I could at least glance through it and not feel left out when they discussed it. Thumbing through the pages, I got so engrossed with the steamy scenes I ignored the oven buzzer and burned two trays of cookies. I set the book aside after that and waited until I got home last night to read it. Unable to put it down, I read it cover to cover and then ordered more books from the author online this morning before Olivia picked me up.
As we drive through town, I spot a familiar truck and can’t prevent the smile that blooms on my lips.
Mitch is back.