Corn, Cows, and the Apocalypse

Shopping Around

By the time I came out of the dressing room, Garrett had found a chair he could lounge in. My selection of blue jeans and sweatshirt made him wrinkle his nose. "I thought the intention was to buy you something pretty?"

"You can buy me something pretty, but I still need dry clothes to wear home so my ass doesn't freeze to your motorcycle seat."

"Fair enough, why don't you try on a dress next?"

I wrinkled my nose this time. "I don't like dresses."

"And yet when I first met you, you were wearing one."

"That's different. I was... drunk."

"Oh, I see. If I remember correctly, it didn't fit you that well."

"It fit too well," I mumbled, ripping the tag from my sweatshirt.

"Pick out a new one. One that you can breathe in." I perked an eyebrow at him. He shrugged. "Humor me. I need a little entertainment. A fashion show hardly compares to football, but beggars can't be choosers."

I looked around the room and found a display of dresses. I nodded to them. "You can't choose football, but I'll let you choose the dress."

He smirked. "The blue one," he said without even looking over to the rack.

I tracked down a blue dress in my size and tried it on. It wasn't my style, in that it wasn't machine washable, but it did look good on me. It was a nice length and the low back gave me the opportunity to go bra-less. Every woman's dream.

I came out and twirled for Garrett. "That'll do."

I resisted the urge to say anything, but I couldn't help but scoff at his failed attempt at flattery. He either wasn't as keen on the blue dress as he thought he would be, or he just didn't want to let me know it.

"Now try on the pink one," he said again without looking at the rack.

I glanced over at the dresses. "There are no pink ones."

"On that rack." He motioned to my other side.

I shook my head. "That's not a dress, that's a negligee."

"I don't speak French. Will it fit?"

"Why would I get a satin nightgown? They're hot in the summer and freezing in winter." I crossed my arms. I was almost positive this was him flirting, but he might have just wanted to amuse himself with a live Victoria Secret commercial.

"Don't you want something to wear when Devin gets back? I assume you want to finish that night you started with him at the fire. The night I came into town."

I shrugged and went back into the dressing room to change. For some men there was a fine line between flirting and teasing; this was leaning toward teasing and I wasn't going to play along. I had plenty of things to make fun of myself for, and I didn't need his help.

"Or did I read that wrong?" he asked from outside. "I'm not the best at interpreting women, but I kind of got the impression you liked him."

"We aren't a couple or anything. Devin isn't that type of guy."

"Yeah, I know he studs out, but that doesn't answer my question. Is he your stud?"

I debated on telling him it was none of his business, but since he was making it his business, perhaps he had a reason to know. "No, he's not."

The pink nightgown dropped over the top of the door onto my head. "You want him to be though, don't you?"

"I don't know. It's complicated." I slipped into the nightgown even though I knew I would never wear it. "Why do you care? Since when do you follow soap operas?"

"Are you trying that on or not?"

"Yes, hang on." I adjusted the fabric so it didn't cling too tightly to anything that didn't need emphasis and opened the door. "There, happy?" I stayed inside the dressing room so I could retreat as soon as he was finished ogling me.

He was back in his chair, leaning his face into his hand like he was bored to death. After a moment of gawking, he took in a deep breath and shook his head. "No, you're right. You don't want that."

I slammed the door and changed back into my jeans and sweatshirt. When I came out with my wet clothes in hand and no blue dress, Garrett went back in to grab it. I glared at him. "I'll never wear that," I griped.

"Yes, you will," he said, hooking me around the back and ushering me to the front counter.

"No, I won't."

Garrett slipped behind the counter and folded the dress neatly into tissue paper. "One night when Devin is back, you'll get the nerve up to knock on his door. He won't be able to resist you in this." He tucked the wrapped dress into a bag.

"Says the man with the high compliment of 'that'll do.'"

He handed me the bag and moved back around to my side. "It will do... for Devin." He leaned against the counter next to me and stared me down.

I furrowed my brow. "I'm missing something. You don't like the blue dress personally, but you think Devin will."

"Well, that's what this is about, isn't it? Attracting Devin?"

I looked down at the bag in my hand like it was a trap waiting to be unleashed. I shook my head. "I thought this was about you sucking up so I don't punch you in the jaw again."

"Sure, coming to get the dress was about that. Getting you out of the house to depressurize your steam was about that. The choice of dress is about attracting attention. Whose attention depends on what you buy."

I started to speak, but I couldn't figure out how to ask what I wanted to ask without making it entirely obvious what I was asking. Garrett patiently watched me, waiting for my gaping mouth to serve some purpose. He, on the other hand, wasn't flustered in the least by the topic of conversation.

"Who...?" I tried, but stopped. "Why do you think Devin will like the blue one?"

"Because he likes a dolled-up woman. He likes dresses, perfume, makeup, and all that bullshit."

"Do you think Devin would like the pink one?" Garrett shook his head slowly with just a hint of severity in his eyes. "Would anyone like the pink one?" He nodded his head slowly, refusing to grant me any help in translating his message. "You didn't like the pink one." I frowned.

"I didn't say that. I said you don't want the pink one. Unless I read you wrong. As I said, I'm not good at reading women." He grabbed the bag from me. "I'll put this in my satchel. Bag up those wet clothes before you bring them out."

I stood by the counter after he left, trying to figure out how blue and pink had become such a difficult decision.