Her and Her Unofficial Love Affairs

CHAPTER 2

Black, black, black.....

"Black!"

"What about black?" my friend asked me.

We were outside a first-class (in our town's standard) shoe store right after we crossed the street. There on their window was a pair of black stilettos sitting glamorously with its tiny rhinestones radiating the late-afternoon sun's rays.

"Your black stilettos!" I exclaimed, pointing my index finger to the fabulous find of the day.

"OMG! This is it!" she exclaimed too motioning inside the store.

I really, really like my friend. We speak of one language. She likes what I like and I like what she likes. She loves what I love and I love what she loves. We grew up together literally, emotionally, knowledgably, and spiritually. We went to the same school from preparatory to tertiary and had the same course. And right after college in the big city, we went back home and opened our one-stop wedding shop - the first ever and only hassle-free wedding shop with wedding planning services in our town.

We cater everything our costumers need - from invitations, wedding rings, gown, bridal car, church arrangements, reception venue, flowers, food, cake, wine, souvenirs, etc. to pictorial, video coverage, and even honeymoon reservations. This may be absurd but we also function as proxies to bride's maids or maids of honor if badly needed. And not to mention, also as proxies to fiancées, entertaining their grooms-to-be who are toughly coping up with wedding jitters.....

With a total regular employee of thirteen including us as managers, we had raised our shop to some heights in the period of only three years. We had expanded our services to neighboring towns and small cities. We were always in demand! With that, we already reaped good fruits from our hard labor. It afforded us to go on vacays to some exciting places, buy fancy clothes, shoes, bags, and jewelries, and regular hang-outs at posh resto-bars. We're totally enjoying a life a 25-year old young lady could ever dream of!

"Girl, I love it," she said as the saleslady handed her the pair of black stilettos.

"Go on, fit it," I urged her at the same time admiring the tiny rhinestones intricately laid on the hem of each shoe.

She excitedly sat down on the store's plush divan and tried one shoe on her right foot. As she slipped the shoe on her foot, her ankle couldn't get in. She stomped her foot, still it did not.

"This will fit," she said with a smile.

She assisted her foot through her fingers to allow the opening of the shoe to expand but still nothing happened.

"Get a size six," I told the saleslady as I sat on the divan beside my friend.

"Right away, ma'am," she replied.

"Why won't you try the left shoe," I turned to my friend who stomped her right foot again.

"Good idea. I won't panic," she said while getting the other shoe.

She slipped it on her left foot and the same thing happened. It did not fit.

"Oh, God. Please fit in!" she requested as she stomped both her feet now.

"I'm sorry, ma'am but there is no size six. I got here size seven," the saleslady interrupted.

"What about six and a half?" my friend asked her hopefully.

"There's also no six and a half," the saleslady replied.

"OK. Let's see. Just try these," I took the pair of size seven from the saleslady and handed it to her.

"Definitely it's loose," she said as she took the pair from me.

"This is five and a half," I showed her the shoe she just fitted. "You're five and a half but this is tight on you. Probably seven will do."

"See," she said as she slipped size seven on her right foot.

It certainly didn't fit. Even if you fill it with tissue paper, it won't do. She'll look like a duck then.

"Miss, are you sure there's no size six or six and a half of these?" I asked the saleslady.

"Yes, ma'am," she said confidently with head up high.

"Will you please check again," I requested her.

"Alright. Just for a moment, ma'am," she said kindly.

"Thank you."

"Oh, how I wish there will be," my friend sighed and leaned her back on the divan.

"Let's keep our fingers crossed," I encouraged her with a smile.

"Size six would be perfect," she said.

I just smiled back at her and got up from the divan.