Draw Me A Picture (45 page)

“Poor lamb. The Waldorf?” she asked, putting down the shirt. William nodded. “They said on the news it was out and that no one was hurt.”

“I can’t get in to get my clothes,” Michelle explained. “They’d all smell like smoke anyway.” The woman smiled again.

“I see. My name is Beryl,” she said. “Follow me, please.” She led William over to the woman’s department and found an available changing booth. “Just sit in here, and I’ll bring you some things to try on. What are your sizes?” In a small voice Michelle told her; she still felt a little reserved around William with some things. The whole lingerie shop suggestion had put in her mind that she’d soon be wearing some of said items around him and/or even less.

Leaning against the wall, William inwardly wondered at Michelle’s pink face; it occurred to him that as simple a thing as shopping was, his fiancée was making an effort to trust him with what she considered a more intimate setting. The blushes on her face, however, were adorable.

“She looked uncommonly well in pale pink,” William said, dropping Michelle a wink from the dressing room door. Beryl the saleswoman closed the door, giving William a pointed look.

“Would you care to see our men’s department, sir?” she asked, looking at his attire with a quirked eyebrow. “Suits are so, passé.”

William cleared his throat. The suit he wore was probably more expensive than the entire men’s clothing line there. He heard soft laughter coming from behind the dressing room door.

“I’ll make a deal with you, William,” came Michelle’s quiet voice. William arched his eyebrow at the dressing room door.

“Oh?” he said, interested.

“Yes,” Michelle cleared her throat. “If you get yourself common pants and a t-shirt, and actually wear them, I’ll... go into the... lingerie store. By myself though...”

Suddenly, the room felt a lot warmer to William. The very idea had him a trifle uncomfortable; he’d only been joking... but this was progress. He smiled what he knew to be a goofy grin.

“You have yourself a bargain my dear,” he said, earnestly. Though he couldn’t see her, William could almost feel Michelle’s blush through the door.

“I’ll take care of her here, sir,” Beryl said, rolling her eyes.

“What is it with men and lingerie?” Michelle muttered. Hearing this, William grinned.

“I’d answer, love but I’d probably get slapped with a harassment suit,” he said, walking away. Michelle snorted, softly. William had no difficulty finding clothes; having been some years on his own, he was quite used to shopping for himself. The T-shirts he tried on were a bit tighter than he liked, but he figured Michelle would appreciate that aspect. He settled on a black cotton tee and khaki pants. Paying for the clothes, he sipped into a dressing room to put them on, so that Michelle could see him in them. He strode back over to the women's section, his suit carefully tucked away in the shopping bag. Ignoring a few batting eyes, William looked around for Beryl; he saw her talking with Michelle, though his fiancée was not facing him. She wore what looked like a long sleeved, dark blue sweater-dress, the hem of which dropped down to about two inches above the knee. With this she wore opaque black stockings that hugged her legs, ending in a pair of black, low-heeled ankle boots. As he walked up, William appreciatively took in her form; he especially liked the stockings and had to file away some thoughts about inspecting them personally... for flaws. As he drew closed, he heard his fiancée debating with Beryl why buying a cashmere sweater was silly when merino wool would do just as well, and for so much cheaper. Michelle saw the sales-woman’s eyes widen at something behind her; she turned, hoping it was William and not armed robbers.

“Oh, my stars...”
she thought. She hadn’t expected William to actually go through with the bet then and
there, but here he was, walking towards her, looking at her with a very warm gaze. Actually, he
appeared to
be looking at her legs. When she’d suggested that her man buy a t-shirt, she didn’t know he’s pick a ridiculously tight one. The dark color looked uncommonly well on her fiancé; he pulled off the common clothes as if they were top of the line fashion. “Does he ever look bad?” Michelle wondered, reminding herself not to stare.
 

“Do I look so strange, love?” William asked, standing in front of his fiancée.

“Not at all,” Michelle said, looking at the floor. “Now you just need a sweater...”

William laughed.

“Jealous already?” he teased, putting an arm around her waist; he leaned down by her ear. “You look amazing. I like you in a short skirt…” Michelle’s pink face turned to red.

“You would,” she whispered, trying to avoid smelling William’s scent; she failed.

“Mm...” her man said. “I especially like those black tights. Very nice...” Michelle bit her lip and took a deep breath.

“Sheesh,” she said, pushing gently away from him. “How do you do that?” William did not let go of her.

“Do what?” he said, with a knowing grin. His lady appeared all flustered and warm; he knew exactly 'what'. Michelle blushed and refused to answer. A small cough came from the saleswoman. William gave Beryl a smile. “Nicely done,” he praised, looking back down at Michelle. “She looks amazing.”

Beryl grinned.

“Yes, she does,” she returned. “She’s all set for a couple days, though she needs some sweaters and a coat of her own.” She handed William his black overcoat. Taking it, William slung it over his arm; out of the corner of her eye, Michelle watched his arm move.

“Wow...” she thought, looking back at the floor.

“Come on,” William said, pulling Michelle gently by her hand to the nearby display of sweaters. “These look nice... pick out four of them.” Michelle looked up into his eyes with surprise.

“One would be plenty,” she said, trying to look resolute. William grinned boyishly at her and she knew she’d already lost.

“Three,” William countered.

“Two,” Michelle said, lifting her chin a little. William leaned down a little, looking into Michelle’s eyes with an oddly unsettling look.

“Five,” William said, his eyes glittering with humor. Michelle smiled.

“None,” she said, resolutely. A deep chuckle resounded in William’s throat.

“Nice try,” he said; turning to Beryl. “She’ll take four.” Michelle stamped her foot, unable to think of a good retort; this was William’s show after all. Laughing, her fiancé kissed the top of his fiancées head. Beryl picked out four different colors, deliberately going to the cashmere display, Michelle noted and took red, black white and brown; she added them to a growing stack of folded clothes over her arm. William’s eyes landed on a display of short, tweed skirts nearby and pulled Michelle over towards it. Seeing them Michelle balked; William just laughed.

“No protests...” he reminded her. “If you complain I’ll go with you into the lingerie store...” Michelle closed her eyes a second, swallowing; she’d have to try another tack.

“I’m not complaining or anything...” she began. “But, I prefer longer skirts; it is nearly winter. Cold weather, and all that?” Narrowing his eyes at her, William grinned.

“Why, you little diplomat...” he said, affectionately. “No sale, I’m afraid. It’s tweed, which I like very much and it’s a short skirt, which I also like very much… being male.”

“Don’t expect me to wear it...” Michelle mumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” William asked, sweetly.

“Nothing,” Michelle said, bravely returning his smile. There was no way she was going to let him accompany her into the lingerie store.

“I like that white blouse over there,” William said, leading Michelle over to another display.

Several minutes afterward they walked out of the store, plus several bags. Michelle managed to pick up a couple bags without William noticing; she walked out of the store ahead of him, smiling.

“Minx,” he called after her. “Get back here and give me those.” Michelle chuckled, turning to face him.

“I can carry a few, measly shopping bags, you know,” she informed William; she caught him studying her legs again.

“Gosh you look nice in that,” he said, smiling down at her. “When I’m not with you, you can wear all the long skirts and cute Quaker-ish dresses that you like; however, I rather enjoy seeing a bit more of you.”

“I could get used to him looking at me that way,” Michelle thought, clearing her throat. William definitely made her want to barge out of her little shell and kiss him. Instead, she smiled coyly at him and hoped he’d forgotten about their little bargain.

He had not. Despite carrying the bags, William managed to loop his arm through Michelle’s and drag her over to the pink-trimmed store of provocative ‘under-things’.

“I was hoping you’d forget this part,” she confessed, hesitating by the door.

“Pfft,” William snorted. “That’s like asking a man to forget his name, sweetheart.” Michelle blushed and let William open the door for her.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, smiling suddenly. “I said I’d go in, not that I’d buy anything.” William narrowed his eyes at her.

“Don’t make me come in there with you,” he said, darkly. “I will, you know.” Michelle disappeared inside.

Chuckling, William found a nearby bench and sat down, quite pleased with himself. As men are apt to do, he wondered what his sweet girl was going to look at or try on. Clearing his throat, he looked at the skylight in the high ceiling and whistled a few bars of Moonlit Sonata. He smiled, thinking of Michelle playing for him in her green dress the night he proposed to her. Maybe she’d get some green things in there; or pink. Pale pink. Clearing his throat again, he looked around for a coffee vendor.

Michelle couldn’t help feeling out of place among the rows of provocative 'under-things'; this store made her leery. Luckily, a nice sales rep names Brittany found her and was immediately enamored with her dress.

“Oh, its’ so pretty!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been seeing it on a hanger over there across the way but I like it even better up close. Looks awesome!”

“Thanks,” Michelle said, hesitating. “I’m, um… getting married next week, and I need, uh...” Brittany smiled.

“Say no more,” she said kindly. “I can help.” Michelle knew her size so finding things were just a matter of choosing color and shape; she liked the very pale pink bras and matching drawers the as well as a white set, to wear with her wedding gown. She balked at getting the popular black, or red.

“I just wouldn’t feel comfortable in them,” she told Brittany, politely. The sales girl seemed to understand.

“Well, here are some more earthy colors, rust, camel brown or sage green,” Brittany said; she held one up to Michelle’s neck, then another. “The sage and forest greens are both good on you, and the rust.” Michelle felt the silky fabric and smiled.

“Very nice,” she agreed.

She was out of the store within fifteen minutes. Not seeing William anywhere, she carried the pink-striped box by its pink string handles and saw a nearby bench. Sitting down, she supposed William would return soon. Rubbing the back of her neck, Michelle suddenly felt tired.

“That was quick,” William said, from behind Michelle; his fiancée hopped up, and then smiled nervously. “A little too quick I suspect...” He held out a paper cup of coffee to her. It had milk in it. Not usually a coffee drinker, Michelle appreciated the thought and sipped the hot liquid gratefully.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. “And don’t worry; I got more than I thought I would.” William knew from her blush that all was well in the underwear world.

“Good girl,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I’m very proud of you.”

“I should not make bargains with you,” she said, giving him an upward glance and a small smile. “I never thought you’d wear a T-shirt.”

William grinned at her.

“You never said if you liked it or not,” he said, quietly. Michelle blushed.

“You are well aware that you look... gorgeous,” she admitted, sitting down; her face burned. She pretended to be interested in her drink. William’s eyebrows raised a little; he sat down, too.

“Was that a compliment?” he asked, smiling, “Or, a shot at my self-awareness?” Michelle grinned into her coffee.

“You’re a very clever man,” she responded.

“See here, you little minx,” William said, putting the bags on the floor. “I’ll not stand for that.” He leaned over and kissed Michelle’s neck, though doing so made him just as uncomfortable as his fiancée. He drew away from her and pushed his hand through his hair. “How long until we’re married, again?” Michelle fanned her face with her hand; it was a little warm in the mall all of the sudden.

“Uh... ten days,” she said, biting her lip. She looked over at William; he looked a little depressed.

“Ten days too long, love,” he said, looking up her legs all the way to her face. She smiled and took a drink of her coffee. He did the same. “I want you to bring that dress along on our honeymoon. The tights, too.”

“Anything else?” Michelle asked, her heart beating quickly. William gave her a sly grin.

“Yes,” he said, slyly. “The entire contents of this box.” He tapped the pink striped lingerie package. Michelle laughed at his expression; William looked positively mischievous.

“Well, where else would I wear it? The gym?” she asked, chuckling softly. Her fiancé nudged her gently with his elbow, and finished his coffee.

By the time they’d purchased some hygienic essentials, makeup and some hair products, it was nearly lunchtime. They found a buffet-type eatery in the mall food court, one that had a fresh-looking salad bar.

“Eating commoner food and wearing a t-shirt,” Michelle said, munching her salad. “I’m very proud of you.” William grinned at her.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said, taking a bite of his own food. It wasn’t bad. It was fresh and not too heavy on the dressing. “I’m rather proud of you as well, love, allowing me to walk all over your little protests.” Michelle smiled into her food.

“They’re very pretty clothes,” she admitted. Michelle looked up at William’s knowing grin. “Well… I am a girl, you know,” she defended.

“Believe me darling, I’m well aware of that,” was William’s answer. Not knowing how to respond to this, Michelle smiled and ate her salad.