again. They may as well be looking at roadkill the way their mouths contort and their eyebrows furrow. Wishing I could stare back defiantly, I hang my head. âLetâs go someplace else,â I whisper.
âYou get this, Marnie,â the taller of the two says. âIâve got inventory out back.â
âWhere are you going on the date?â Marnie asks without looking at me.
âBowling,â I answer.
âExcuse me?â Marnie says while the fleeing saleswoman cackles.
âWe want to try on jeans and figure-flattering sweaters,â Luci says.
âWhat size is she?â Marnie asks.
Luci folds her arms across her chest and glares at Marnie until she looks at me.
âTen,â I answer.
Luci suddenly grabs my waistband and pulls it away from my hips. âWhatever size you think you are, youâre at least a size smaller. An entire other person can fit in here with you.â
Great. Now Luciâs on their side.
The saleswoman directs us to the fitting room while she collects outfits for me. Luci stretches out in a chair while we wait.
A few minutes later the saleswoman enters the dressing room with two styles of jeans in sizes eight and ten and a pile of medium-sized and large sweaters. I close the door to my stall and try on the size ten jeans and large sweater. I check myself out in the mirror. Perfect, I think. One and done. We can get out of here.
I open the door. Marnie frowns. Luci shakes her head. Next, I try on the same pants one size down. The jeans choke me around the waist. âToo small.â
âLetâs see,â Luci demands.
I step into the hallway, and Luci and Marnie exchange a look. Marnie moves her finger in a circular motion that I guess means turn around so I do. âTry on the other style in the smaller size,â Luci says to me. Looking at Marnie she adds, âWe need a size six in those.â
âPut on the red sweater,â Luci says. When I have it on, Marnie has returned with size six jeans, which she hands to Luci. Luci points to my sweater. âThe next size down,â she instructs Marnie.
Luci tries to hand me the size six pants, but I refuse to take them. âThose wonât fit.â
âWeâre not leaving until you try them.â She flings the jeans over the door and plops back in the chair to show she means business.
I grab the jeans and return to the stall. I squirm and squeeze my way into them. I finally pry them over my hips, but canât button them. I open the door to show Luci. âSee.â
Marnie returns with a smaller sweater. Luci snatches it from her. âDoes it come in blue?â she asks.
Marnie spins on her heel. Luci hands me the red sweater and tells me to put it on with the size eight jeans. When I have the outfit on, I look in the mirror. The sweater plunges at the neck, revealing cleavage I never knew I had.
I open the door to find Luci standing right there. âWow! You look amazing. Turn around.â I spin. Luci whistles. âEthanâs going to love that view at the bowling alley,â she says.
We hear Marnieâs footsteps approaching. Luci hurriedly gathers the neatly folded pile of clothes that donât fit and balls them all up. When Marnie reaches us, Luci exchanges the rumpled clothing for the blue sweater.
Marnie stares at Luci for a moment before retreating to the store floor. âEnough,â I say. âYouâre being really hard on her.â
âShe needs to be reminded that sheâs a salesclerk selling clothes that other people design,â Luci says. âShe has no reason to be so snobby.â
When Marnie returns Iâm wearing the blue sweater. âToo drab,â Luci says. âDoes it come in a lighter blue?â
Marnie puts her hand on her hip. Her lips part ever so slightly, and the tip of her tongue rises to the roof of her mouth. Whatever it is she wants to say to Luci, she decides not to. Her tongue
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