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Her nose stung and she sniffed. “I think I can handle a PTA meeting.”
As they walked into the post office, Claire kept bundled up in the chilly interior of the building. Her gaze darted among the items on display, half expecting to find her mug on a wanted poster.
Mike selected a priority mail pouch and shoved the cigarette box inside, the blue pills nestled in the box.
He paid the clerk with cash and asked, “Is there a women’s clothing store nearby? My wife needs to pick up a few more warm items.”
“Down about two blocks there are a couple of stores.” She tossed the package into the wheeled cart behind her and gave Mike his change. “It sure is an early winter this year. Maybe it’ll be a short one.”
“We can only hope.” Mike rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Thanks, and happy holidays.”
When they got outside, he asked, “Can you walk a few blocks?”
“Absolutely not.” She kicked up one foot. “These boots are practically falling off my feet.”
They got back in the car and crawled down the street until a few clothing stores came into view.
“Ready to shop till you drop?”
“Sure. I’m not picky.”
He dropped his jaw in mock astonishment. “I don’t know much about clothes, but I’m pretty sure yours cost an arm and a leg.”
“I mean,” she said, punching his arm, “I’m not picky when faced with wearing the same thing day after day. I’m really not high maintenance. You should’ve seen me when I was with the Peace Corps in Guatemala. Not a designer thread in sight.”
“You were a Peace Corps volunteer?”
She nodded as she grabbed the car door handle. “It’s where I met Shane.”
On the sidewalk, Mike stopped in front of a newspaper dispenser. “I need some reading material while you try on clothes.”
“I won’t be that long, but you can check out the news on me and Hamid, if there is any.”
She scurried into the store while Mike fed some coins into the dispenser.
A clerk looked up from folding sweaters. “Good morning. Can I help you find something?”
“Just some casual clothes. I didn’t pack enough for this cold.”
“I hear you. It’s crazy for December, even for us.” She plopped a sweater on the pile and turned toward rows of cubbies on the wall. “We have jeans on this side, and even snow pants if you need them.”
“I just might need them.” Claire fingered the slick material of a pair of black snow pants hanging on a rack.
The little bell above the door rang as Mike pushed his way into the store, the newspaper tucked under his arm.
“Can I help you?”
He waved the paper at Claire. “I’m with her.”
“Well, you’re in luck. We have a few chairs outside the dressing room just for the gentlemen.”
“Perfect.” He collapsed in one of the chairs and said, “Knock yourself out, sweetheart.”
Claire rolled her eyes and stationed herself in front of the array of jeans, scanning the labels for her size.
After she selected a few pairs of pants, she browsed the long-sleeved T-shirts and sweaters. With her arms piled high with clothes, she approached the clerk. “I’m ready to try these on.”
She flicked Mike’s newspaper as she walked by. “Do you want me to model anything, sweetheart?”
“You look good in everything, babe.”
The clerk smiled as she unlocked the dressing room for Claire. “You have a keeper there.”
“Don’t I know it?” He even takes out bad guys with a flying leap and roundhouse kick to the midsection.
She shimmied in and out of several pairs of jeans, dropping more in the keep pile than not. She pulled on sweaters and shirts and held on to anything halfway decent.
She called out, “Do you want me to leave the clothes I’m not buying in here, or do you want them?”
“I’ll take care of them.”
Claire loaded up her arms and squeezed out of the dressing room. She brushed past Mike. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”
“No.”
The curt response had her twisting her head over her shoulder, and she nearly dropped her clothes in a heap.
