floor-to-ceiling shelving units creating cluttered aisles.
His interest in the puppy gone, he snatched my coat sleeve and dragged me down the aisles, oohing and aahing over the toys.
“I used to have one of these,” he said when we reached a display of army toys. “Loved them. I don’t know what ever happened to them…”
Before I could respond, he was bounding over to something else, laughing with glee.
“You’re such a child,” I said when he picked up a dump truck, pressing the buttons to see what they would do.
“Maybe,” he shrugged, setting the truck back on the shelf. “I didn’t have a lot of toys when I was a kid – I like to come in here and see what sort of shit these companies come up with.”
Brow furrowed, I opened my mouth to ask him about his childhood, but didn’t get the chance. He’d grown bored with the toys and was yanking me out of the store, with a quick wave over his shoulder at Jocelyn.
“What’s next?” he muttered, his eyes scanning the stores in the vicinity. Dalefield Mall wasn’t particularly large and only consisted of two wings with about thirty stores. Still, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to think that he might drag me through every single one.
“Let’s go check out the Shirt Shack,” he said, quickening his pace. “They have some good ones in there.”
“Evan, my man!”
Somehow, I wasn’t surprised that the heavyset, jolly man behind the register knew Evan, too. I was beginning to suspect that he spent a lot of time wandering the mall.
“Hey, Ruben. How’s it going?”
“Slow, but it’ll pick up,” Ruben replied, rubbing his considerable stomach. “The holidays are approaching.”
“I know,” Evan said. “They come so quickly.”
“They do.”
Evan laced his fingers through my hand and maneuvered through the racks of t-shirts. I was amazed at the selection. The store had everything from plain white t-shirts to colored to vintage to those with snappy, silly sayings. Evan stopped at that rack, rifling through all the shirts, stopping when he found one particularly funny to share with me. I walked around to the other side and began to peruse, chuckling at a few of the clever sayings. He’d find one and hold it up for me to read and I’d do the same until it became a competition between the two of us – who could find the funniest shirt.
Once we’d gone through the entire rack, Evan decided it was time to go somewhere else. He waved bye to Ruben, promising to come back soon, and led me across the way to Noah’s Ark.
“I love the puppies,” he said, stopping in front of the store window to watch three Maltese puppies frolicking in the shredded newspaper.
“They’re so cute,” I said, smiling at their antics.
“Come on,” he said, nodding at the store. “Let’s find our favorite and get him out.”
“You can’t just take a puppy out,” I said.
“They let you take one into the little room,” he said, pointing at two closet-sized, glass encased rooms empty of anything but a lone dog toy and a bench. “See?”
As I rarely shopped at Dalefield Mall, I wasn’t accustomed to this. “All right, let’s find a puppy.”
We took our time, stopping in front of each pen to study every puppy. It was difficult to pick just one as they all were adorable. The yellow Lab puppies jumped on the glass, yipping and barking. The Yorkie pups cuddled together, each with pink bows in their hair.
But it was the chubby little bulldog puppy at the end, in a pen by himself, that won our affection. We looked at each other, both of us with dopey grins on our faces.
“Maxie,” Evan called as he spun on his heel, nearly toppling over a display of dog toys. He righted the rack before it could tumble as an older woman appeared from a back room.
“Evan,” she said with an affectionate smile, reaching into her smock pocket for a set of keys. “Who do you want to play with today?”
“The
His interest in the puppy gone, he snatched my coat sleeve and dragged me down the aisles, oohing and aahing over the toys.
“I used to have one of these,” he said when we reached a display of army toys. “Loved them. I don’t know what ever happened to them…”
Before I could respond, he was bounding over to something else, laughing with glee.
“You’re such a child,” I said when he picked up a dump truck, pressing the buttons to see what they would do.
“Maybe,” he shrugged, setting the truck back on the shelf. “I didn’t have a lot of toys when I was a kid – I like to come in here and see what sort of shit these companies come up with.”
Brow furrowed, I opened my mouth to ask him about his childhood, but didn’t get the chance. He’d grown bored with the toys and was yanking me out of the store, with a quick wave over his shoulder at Jocelyn.
“What’s next?” he muttered, his eyes scanning the stores in the vicinity. Dalefield Mall wasn’t particularly large and only consisted of two wings with about thirty stores. Still, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to think that he might drag me through every single one.
“Let’s go check out the Shirt Shack,” he said, quickening his pace. “They have some good ones in there.”
“Evan, my man!”
Somehow, I wasn’t surprised that the heavyset, jolly man behind the register knew Evan, too. I was beginning to suspect that he spent a lot of time wandering the mall.
“Hey, Ruben. How’s it going?”
“Slow, but it’ll pick up,” Ruben replied, rubbing his considerable stomach. “The holidays are approaching.”
“I know,” Evan said. “They come so quickly.”
“They do.”
Evan laced his fingers through my hand and maneuvered through the racks of t-shirts. I was amazed at the selection. The store had everything from plain white t-shirts to colored to vintage to those with snappy, silly sayings. Evan stopped at that rack, rifling through all the shirts, stopping when he found one particularly funny to share with me. I walked around to the other side and began to peruse, chuckling at a few of the clever sayings. He’d find one and hold it up for me to read and I’d do the same until it became a competition between the two of us – who could find the funniest shirt.
Once we’d gone through the entire rack, Evan decided it was time to go somewhere else. He waved bye to Ruben, promising to come back soon, and led me across the way to Noah’s Ark.
“I love the puppies,” he said, stopping in front of the store window to watch three Maltese puppies frolicking in the shredded newspaper.
“They’re so cute,” I said, smiling at their antics.
“Come on,” he said, nodding at the store. “Let’s find our favorite and get him out.”
“You can’t just take a puppy out,” I said.
“They let you take one into the little room,” he said, pointing at two closet-sized, glass encased rooms empty of anything but a lone dog toy and a bench. “See?”
As I rarely shopped at Dalefield Mall, I wasn’t accustomed to this. “All right, let’s find a puppy.”
We took our time, stopping in front of each pen to study every puppy. It was difficult to pick just one as they all were adorable. The yellow Lab puppies jumped on the glass, yipping and barking. The Yorkie pups cuddled together, each with pink bows in their hair.
But it was the chubby little bulldog puppy at the end, in a pen by himself, that won our affection. We looked at each other, both of us with dopey grins on our faces.
“Maxie,” Evan called as he spun on his heel, nearly toppling over a display of dog toys. He righted the rack before it could tumble as an older woman appeared from a back room.
“Evan,” she said with an affectionate smile, reaching into her smock pocket for a set of keys. “Who do you want to play with today?”
“The
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