Hidden Abnormality

34. Supplies and Information

Chapter Thirty-Four

  Uriah rattled off the last few things we have left on the list. Baby powder, blue paint, and dill pickles. We already have jumbo marshmallows, microfiber rags, and sunglasses.

  I hate to say it, but I almost laughed when Azaria counted these things off on her fingers. I held it in, though. Her expression was extremely serious. Which didn't make things better.

  Uriah went to grab the pickles while I went to get the blue paint. We would meet back up in the baby aisle to get the powder. I didn't trust Uriah to take forever choosing simple paint. He might even get the wrong one. A blue that turns out to be green or something. I just figured it would be safer for him to grab the pickles.

  But now that I think about it, what if he can't choose between brands? What if he thinks one is better than the other but tries to figure out which Azaria would pick?

  I grabbed paint of the darker hues of blue and made my way towards the baby aisle. Hopefully, he wasn't holding two jars of pickles in his hands instead of standing in the aisle I needed him to be in right now. Uriah had the shopping cart with him and I was beginning to wish I had taken it to set the can of body paint into.

  He was in the aisle. Waiting for me, apparently. His arms were crossed and one foot was tapping an unsteady rhythm on the floor. When he saw me, his arms exploded toward me. "Where have you been? There are six million different types of baby powder and she didn't specify which we should get!"

  Placing the can in the cart, I looked at the wall of baby products. Why were there so many? Looking at this wall made me glad the girl I looked after wasn't a baby when I was left to take care of her. Even the food choices were expansive.

  A quick glance inside the cart and I could see the brand of pickles was one I had seen lying around Uriah's home as a kid. As I was worrying about him, taking my dear time, he was standing in this aisle with an unreasonable amount of varying baby products.

  I almost feel bad for him.

  As we are staring at these products, shoppers come and go. It's almost as if they can't see us struggling. Maybe they just don't care. A woman reaches beside us to grab baby powder. Then she smiles at us. "It is so nice to see two young men shopping for their child so openly. How old is your baby? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

  We looked at each other and returned our attention to her. "We're shopping for a friend. And we aren't together," Uriah mumbled.

  The lady's smile dropped. "I'm so sorry for assuming." She took her cart and swiftly walked away.

  "Couldn't have just asked her for help first?" I sighed.

  Uriah shrugged. "Maybe we should go with a rash protector?"

  I chuckled. "I don't think Azaria would appreciate that."

  He replaced the powder and grabbed another. "This one?"

  I pursed my lips to the side. "I honestly have no clue."

  This time, a man walked down the aisle. If anyone would help us it had to be him. Someone who had to have been in our shoes at some point. "Do y'all need help?" he asked.