“I’m intrigued by these shoes,” he said, gesturing to a pair of green sandals that had, yes, feathers woven into the straps. “Do people really wear stuff like this?”
“Sure!” the salesgirl, a skinny redhead in a too-short minidress, said as she hurried over. “That’s part of our newFemme Tropicale line. It’s all about being uninhibited and wild.”
Roo looked into the mirror he was facing, right at me. “Hear that? Uninhibited and wild.”
“Sounds exactly like Club Prom,” I said. “Grab them before someone else does.”
“What’s your size?” the girl asked me.
“She’s kidding,” Roo told her.
“What?” She looked at me, confused. “You don’t want the shoes?”
“No,” I said, narrowing my eyes at my reflection again. “Or this dress, actually.”
“Good call,” Roo said. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you kind of look like the Grim Reaper.”
“You think Iliterallylook like death, and you weren’t going to mention it?” I said.
“Well,” he replied. “Yeah. I mean, what’s with the cape?”
“It’s not a cape, actually,” the girl told him cheerfully. “It’s a detachable midi top to add flow to the piece.”
I faced the mirror again, and they both looked at me. Roo said, “Looks like a cape.”
I sighed. “This is, like, the millionth dress I’ve tried.”
“Then I bet number million and one is the charm.” He glanced at his watch, then added, “No pressure, but it kind of has to be. I’m supposed to be in the Yum truck doing the motel circuit by one at the latest.”
I walked back into the dressing room. “You know whatwould save us lots of time?” I yelled over the door. “If you drove back.”
“About as likely as someone not thinking that’s a cape,” he said. “Nice try, though.”
Standing there alone, in front of yet another mirror, I smiled at my reflection. Normally, two hours of shopping for anything would try my patience to a point of rage. This outing, however, had been different. It was actually fun.
First, there was the ride over, during which I got to relax in the passenger seat as Roo drove, entertaining me with stories about his interactions with the residents of Park Palms, the nursing home where he worked the night shift. Then, our arrival at Bly Corners, which was less a mall than three stores and a food court surrounded by a huge parking lot in which we were one of only four cars. I counted.
“Is this place even open?” I asked as he pulled right up to the main entrance, taking one of many empty spaces.
“Careful with the judgment, Big City,” he replied. “For Delaney, this is mobbed.”
As we got out of the car, the only sound was Roo shutting his door and, I kid you not, a pigeon I could hear cooing from atop a nearby light pole. “Seriously, how do they even stay open if no one comes here?”
“Selling overpriced dresses to desperate out-of-towners,” he replied. “Now, watch your purse. Pickpockets thrive in crowded places.”
I laughed as we walked to the main entrance, where hepulled the door open for me. Nice, I thought again. This time, I heard it in my own voice, not Hannah’s.
Our first stop was TOGS!, a narrow store blasting loud music where everything was neon and priced at twenty-five bucks or less.
“NO!” Roo said when I presented him with the only thing I’d even slightly liked, a royal-blue dress with a pink ruffle underneath. “You look radioactive. Next.”
That was Claudia’s Closet, a women’s boutique that specialized in flowing, loose-waisted clothing for women of a certain age that wasnotseventeen. Still, I tried on a maroon dress with a full skirt that swished when I walked.
“Might look good with a high wind,” Roo observed when I emerged from the fitting room. “But we can’t count on that. Let’s move on.”
We had, to Douglas Arthur, the department store, where we’d been ever since. Everything was fun and games until you were out of time, though. And we almost were.
“All that is left is the green-and-white one,” I reported, again over the door. “With the halter neck.”
