AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I watch them both, confused as hell why she would feel the need to get permission from my dad to go shopping with me.
Sasha leaves the room, presumably to change out of my dad’s shirt before we go shopping. Dad pulls me into a tight embrace when she is gone. “We need to talk about something when you get back, baby girl.”
His tone sounds pretty serious, but I try to bask in his warmth as he holds me. A hug from him has always made everything a little bit better whenever my world is chaotic or uncertain.
“I’m ready!” Sasha calls from the hallway.
Dad squeezes me one last time before walking us to the door. I’m the first to exit, and when I don’t hear Sasha right behind me, I turn back.
I bring my pointer and thumb finger to my lips and let out a loud wolf whistle when I see my dad's hands grip Sasha’s face, holding it to his.
“Get a room!” I scream while cackling at them.
Sasha pulls away from dad with a goofy grin on her face and giggles with me.
The loud vibration of motorcycles coming down our street causes knots to form in my stomach and my smile to vanish. Just as I motion for Sasha to get in the car, Ghost and Ringer steer their bikes into our driveway directly beside where I’m parked.
Oblivious to my nonverbal communication, Sasha smiles and waves at them. Ringer’s expression is stuck in a scowl as his eyes drink in my body. He rips his gaze from me to his brother and my dad, and I watch in curiosity. It’s Sunday, so if this isn’t a pleasure visit, it means something is seriously wrong.
If something is wrong, my dad will call me to let me know what’s going on. There’s no need for us to stick around, so I drop into my bucket seat and turn the ignition until my baby purrs under me.
Sasha slides in next to me, and as soon as her seatbelt is on, I pull out of the driveway. I chance one more glance over to see Ringer watching us leave. I lock eyes with him in my rearview mirror and keep him in my gaze until he disappears from view.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling into my favorite thrift store. It’s the largest one in the area, just on the outskirts of town leading into the city. The entire building can be compared to the size of a Walmart Supercenter. I cut the engine and we climb out. Smiling at one another, we make our way inside.
“Hello, pretty lady!” bellows Gurdy, the owner of Rose Thrifts, as we walk through the door.
Gurdy is a 70-something year-old widow. She and her late husband opened this shop not long after they got married, and it eventually turned into the huge business she has today.
“Good morning, Gurdy,” I greet her in return.
“Who is this we have here?”
“This is my friend, Sasha. She wants to learn my craft,” I giggle.
“Well, she has the best teacher! Let me know if you ladies need any help. I just got in a bunch of stuff that’s perfect for you. You know where to find it,” she says with a wink.
I lead Sasha to the women’s section first. I glance her over, mulling over how to best dress her body type. “You’re looking for anything that you think will fit your waist. Even if it won’t, we can make it fit. So if you like it, grab it. I’ll see if it’ll work.” I flip through the jeans rack, grabbing a few that I think will fit me. I look over and see Sasha holding a few pairs as well.
“How do you know what to do with them?” Sasha asks.
“My nana taught me. She used to love repurposing clothes into everything. When I was little, she would rip up my pop’s clothes to make doll clothes for me.” I chuckle at the memory of my pop coming home one day to see his favorite pajama pants made into a brand new swimsuit for my cabbage patch doll.
“Oh my gosh, Lilah! Look at this!” I round the long rack to see Sasha holding up a long red pair of leather pants.
“Those are awesome, Sash! I could make those into shorts or a skirt for you. My dad’ll go crazy when he sees you in that. He loves red.”
Sasha’s face flames, and she adds the pants to her pile.
We make our way to the dressing rooms to try on our selections. Sasha was extremely lucky with her picks. Some of them I’ll only have to cut into shorts.
My body type is, as always, difficult. Everything that fits my waist almost never fits my thighs, and the ones that are comfortable on my thighs are always way too big on my waist. I usually have to go with what fits my thighs and cut and sew so they also fit my waist.
I decide on four out of the twelve pairs I picked before we head over to the shirts.
Sasha turns to look down the blouse rack while I go farther down to the t-shirt section. I usually don’t find many I like in the women’s section, so I always end up in the men’s area.
I get lucky and find some shirts I can wear to the bakery in the women’s section. Sasha follows me over to the men’s section, and I look over to her with what I’m sure is the widest smile.
