Chapter Twenty-Seven
West
We ended up going to a barbecue place downtown. The food was good, and being around Nina felt right. After we left the restaurant, I had no idea what to do.
“Where to next?” I said. Because as long as I was with her, what we did really didn’t matter. Hell, did I just think that? It seemed like one of those sappy greeting cards.
“It’s such a nice night. Do you want to walk past the shops?”
God, no. Maybe I should have come up with a suggestion. Downtown was full of shops that sold antiques and little glass figurines that served no purpose on the planet except to collect dust.
“This is me being completely honest. I’ve never understood why people want to do that, but I’m willing to give it a shot. How about we walk past a few shops, and you can explain to me why it’s supposed to be fun.”
“Challenge accepted.” She held out her hand. “The first rule of window shopping is that all couples strolling—”
“We’re strolling? I’m not sure I’ve done that before. Do I need to stretch first?”
“Stroll, walk, wander, however you want to phrase it. The first rule of strolling past shops is you must hold hands.”
“Okay.” I held her hand. “Now what?”
“I’ll explain as we go.” She gestured toward the shops across the street. Once we’d made it to the first shop window, she said, “Second rule is, you look at whatever is in the window display and comment on it.”
This particular shop sold antique dolls. A child-sized doll sat in a rocking chair in the window. It had realistic glass eyes that seemed to stare straight into your soul.
“So, what do you think?” Nina asked.
“I think that doll is terrifying and it would scar a child for life.”
Nina laughed. “I agree. On to the next shop.”
The next window featured blown-glass sculptures. “I love the blue and green vase,” Nina said.
“I am resisting the impulse to mention dust.”
“Thank you. If you weren’t fixated on dust, which one would you buy?”
I studied my choices. They were works of art. One day, when I didn’t live in a maze of Rubbermaid boxes, I might consider buying something like this. “I like the sunset-colored bowl.”
“Good choice. That’s my second favorite.”
Apparently, I was getting the hang of this. More people had joined us on the sidewalk, and we shuffled along for a few minutes until we reached the next store. “Is there a rule for what you do between windows?” I asked.
“Nothing official. We can make small talk or people watch.” She pointed toward a woman across the street wearing some sort of costume with wings on her back. “Whenever someone wears a costume like that in public I think it should be socially acceptable to ask them why. Is she in a play? Does she waitress at a fantasy bar?”
“A fantasy bar?”
“Yes. In my head there is a bar where people dress up like elves and fairies and whatever other fantasy creatures they want.”
“I think that’s called Comic-Con.”
“Maybe.” She pulled me toward the next window, which featured Christmas ornaments.
I hated Christmas. “How can a store that sells Christmas ornaments survive all year long?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not a big fan.”
“Really? I imagined you’d have a tree decorated with book-themed ornaments.”
“That would be pretty cool,” she said. “But Christmas Day was when my mom figured out she wanted a divorce… So, not my favorite holiday.”
“I’m not big on the holiday season either,” I admitted.
“Any particular reason?” she asked.
She’d shared with me. I wanted to share some part of the truth with her. “My mom’s condition flared up during the holidays a few years ago.”
“Sorry.” She squeezed my hand. “There should be a rule that bad stuff can’t happen on holidays.”
“That would be nice.”
“I love the next store.” She tugged me forward. In the window, there were paper sculptures made from books. It took me a moment to realize the books were open, and the paper had been cut or twisted to create scenes. “I’m surprised you’re not offended on behalf of the books.”
“I like that they’ve been turned into art.” She pointed at one where the pages had been sculpted to look like a tree. “I love that one.”
“I’m going to go with the obvious.” I pointed at one that said: READ.
“West? What are you doing here?”
I knew that voice. Keeping a calm expression on my face, I turned to see Vicky and Cole holding hands.
“According to Nina,” I held up our joined hands, “I am strolling and window shopping.”
Vicky smiled at Nina. “I have no idea how you got him to agree to this, but congratulations.”
Nina shrugged. “I kind of sprung it on him. He’s doing a pretty good job so far.”
“Cole, help me out here. This is not a guy thing.”
“No. It’s a date thing. My take on it is, we’re supposed to smile and nod and make mental notes for future birthday presents.”
Vicky grinned. “In that case, there’s the cutest jewelry store down the street.” She tugged Cole in that direction.
Nina laughed. “Maybe it was fate that Vicky and Cole ended up together,”
“Whatever you say, Luna. On to the next window.” She laughed, which is what I’d been going for. See, I could do this boyfriend thing. Maybe Vicky just hadn’t been the right girl for me and, maybe, Nina was.