Chapter Thirty-Six

“I HAVE TO get out of this mall,” Dan said as they stood in the Louis Vuitton store.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

“That bag,” he said, pointing to a case in the wall, “costs more than Betty’s engagement ring.”

Joey tried to stifle her laugh as they walked out but failed and was hit with a nasty look from a very annoyed looking store employee.

“Okay, okay,” Joey said once they were out of earshot. “But there are other nice purses you don’t have to go into debt for.”

“I dunno,” Dan said. They’d been shopping for hours, and the milkshake burst of energy had long since worn off. Joey couldn’t believe he’d hung in there for so long. He either really wanted to please Betty or was afraid to piss her off.

Or maybe he was enjoying the time with Joey. She hoped that was it but didn’t want to jinx it. They were getting close to the store she knew would be the winner but wasn’t quite ready to take him there.

“Can we at least sit down for a bit?” he said. “I think I got something in my shoe when we were in that bead store.”

“Sure,” she said, turning to the left.

“Food court is back that way,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I feel like there’s some place to sit up this way.” She led them to the Pottery Barn and pretended to find it as they approached.

“Sit?” he said.

“Couches,” she said.

“Ahh.” He nodded, following her inside.

Dan collapsed into the first couch they saw as only a man who is being dragged around a mall by a woman can.

“Tired, Grandpa?” she said, laughing as he leaned back into the cushy upholstery.

“Mentally, yes,” he said. “Do you think Betty would like this couch?”

He laughed, but it reminded her of the first couch they bought together and she welled up.

When the hand-me-down couch they’d been given from her aunt had become too uncomfortable to sit on any longer, she and Dan had walked into The Room Store one Labor Day weekend, armed with an ad they’d seen in the Sunday Arizona Republic.

“We’d like this couch,” Joey had announced to the first salesperson who approached them.

“Oh, well, we don’t have that one in stock,” he said. “But I do have some nice other ones over here if you’ll just follow me.”

“Sir, we want the $200 couch in this ad,” Dan said. “Do any other stores have it in stock?”

“I’d have to call,” he said. “But may I show you what we do have in the meantime?”

“We want. The $200. Couch,” Joey said. “And we’re going to pay in cash. The ad also says no taxes or delivery fees this weekend.”

“Oh, uh, I think the fine print lists some exclusions…”

“Sir, my wife here is pregnant. Her back hurts. Our couch at home has fallen apart. We would like this couch that your store is advertising, and we’d like you take this money and our address and make that happen so we can get out of here before her morning sickness kicks back in.”

Joey made a face like she might throw up right there on the spot as Dan proffered a stack of mostly tens, fives, and ones.

The salesman took the money and the Post-it note Joey had used to write down their address, came back once to ask what color they’d like, then came back one last time to give them a receipt and delivery information.

And now, here Joey was in a store she’d never been able to afford, joking about buying a $3000 couch for her sister. She suddenly wanted to leave even more than she knew Dan did.

“I have an idea,” she said. “And if you like it, we can be out of here in ten minutes.”

“Deal,” Dan said, hopping up like a spring chicken.

She no longer pretended that she didn’t know where she was going and led him straight to Tiffany & Co.

“I know I said no budget, but…” He stared up at the intimidating signage.

“There are some things here that aren’t too bad,” she said.

They walked in and Joey asked the salesperson who greeted them to take them to the Elsa Perretti section. She was young and pretty and probably annoyed by two teenagers coming in and asking for some of the least expensive items they sold, but she was courteous and Joey realized she was probably just projecting.

“Did you have something specific in mind?” she said, showing them to the case.

“It’s for my sister,” Joey said. “An engagement gift from her new fiancé here.”

“How sweet,” the salesperson said. Joey had definitely been projecting. She looked at the woman’s nametag. Tiffany was her name, and Joey felt herself willing Dan to not make a Tiffany working at Tiffany’s joke. Or had he only developed that impulse after they’d had kids?

Joey pointed at the letter necklaces she thought Betty might like. Each one had a single, cursive letter on it. Joey knew Betty liked it because she’d always complimented the one Joey got the day she became a mother.

“Should we get her a B for Betty?” Dan said.

“Oh, I was thinking a D for Dan,” Joey said. It’s what she would have wanted. She eventually had one for each of her kids and loved reaching up to touch them during the day.

“I’m not sure she’d want it to be for my name,” Dan said.

It was such a short sentence, but it was charged with so much emotion. Dan doubted Betty’s love for him just like Joey did.

“I mean, the B is prettier,” he said, realizing what he’d just implied.

“And if it flips, it looks just like the D,” Tiffany said helpfully.

That settled it. Dan bought the B and Joey knew exactly how big Betty’s eyes would get when she saw the little blue box it came in.

They walked to the car together in companionable silence. The day had been a success, and not just because they’d found the perfect gift.

But because she had an idea that might fix everything.