Chapter 18
For some inexplicable reason, my mom, sister, and niece tackle the Black Friday sales every year. I’ve never done the calculations, but I don’t think the savings balance out the post-shopping-massage costs.
Still, they insist on going.
Leaning against the doorjamb to the kitchen, I observe the planning process. The Pentagon’s got nothing on these women.
A few hours ago, our Thanksgiving feast covered the table.
Now the surface is littered with innumerable print ads, prioritized shopping lists, and one color-coded master map of the DFW area.
I think all they’re missing are live feeds of the storefronts, and it wouldn’t shock me if those appear as midnight approaches.
“You going to join them?” Harlan’s deep voice surprises me almost as much as his hand grazing the small of my back.
I lurch forward, and he grabs my elbow to steady me as he walks past. When he reaches the table, he scans the situation room.
“Aunt Meredith isn’t allowed to go.” Hannah outs me while crouching over a flyer from Abercrombie & Fitch.
I roll my eyes. “It’s not that I’m not allowed to go. I just don’t want to go.”
“Also, you aren’t allowed.” Molly yanks the flyer away from Hannah and examines the model on the page.
Mom leans over to look at the picture. “That girl forgot to wear pants for this photo shoot.”
Harlan grunts. “Why isn’t Meredith allowed to go?”
“She hates shopping. It’s her one flaw.” Hannah smiles at me. “I still love her.”
Molly harrumphs. “Hates? She sucks the life out of any momentary shopping joy. Small or big.”
I throw my arms out. “Can we not do this right now?”
My family made it through the Thanksgiving meal without any embarrassing stories. I made it through the feast without hyperventilating. So far, I’m counting today as a win. But now we’re on shaky ground.
“Sure.” Molly tucks the half-naked A&F ad under a HomeGoods flyer.
“There’s no need to tell Harlan she got kicked out of Dillard’s.
They lifted the ban after her appeal to the manager.
” My mother pulls another sales announcement from Hannah’s pile and points to the scantily clad woman.
“This one is wearing her little sister’s shorts. Does she not know it’s wintertime?”
Harlan glances at me, taking a sip of his coffee with a smile partially hidden behind the rim of his cup.
Molly grabs the latest half-naked-model picture and shoves it in the pile to join its cohort. “You should be glad they didn’t make you pay for the mannequin.”
“I was hangry.” I shake my head. “And I had to go to the bathroom. No one should shop under those harsh conditions.”
Molly taps her finger on her upper lip. “True. Which is why we implemented mandatory snack times the following year.”
“Was that the time she fell asleep in the Gap dressing room?” Now my mom is throwing me under the proverbial shopping bus.
“Yeah, that was the last trip she was allowed to go with us.” Hannah sneaks a Target flyer over the Victoria’s Secret ad on the top of her pile.
Bless her heart. No way is her mom letting her buy underwear from VS.
Harlan scratches the stubble on his cheek. “What do you have against shopping?”
“Nothing. I like shopping sprints. But these absurd people like shopping marathons.” I decide to change the topic before they point out more of my questionable shopping history. “What I want to know is who’s going to help me sort the change this year?”
Between my dad and Taylor in the living room and the women in the dining room, a collective moan rolls through the house.
“That’s what I thought.” I point my accusing finger at each person. “Did you at least bring your change jars?”
“They’re in the guest room,” Taylor calls from the couch. “I put them in there when I showed Harlan where to put his luggage.”
All the oxygen leaves my body, and a tense vibe fills the room. Heat creeps up my face. Of course he’s staying here. I told him he could stay here. But I didn’t tell my family about his impending visit.
Harlan’s blank-faced stare locks on me.
I swallow and shift my gaze to my mom.
“I hope you changed the bedding for Hercules. Greek gods shouldn’t sleep on floral Laura Ashley sheets.” My mother winks at me while everyone releases the tension with laughter.
But when I glance at Molly, she stares at me with enigmatic eyes. This doesn’t bode well.
“Come on, Harlan. Let’s go sort the change.” I nod in the direction of the guest room.
“Save yourself,” Michael says, while at the same time, without taking his eyes off the Cowboys game, my dad says, “Send up a flare when you get bored.”
Harlan enters the guest room behind me. “What have I gotten myself into?”
Funny. I was just thinking the same thing myself.
There’s a low-level pressure system between Harlan and me that I don’t want to address.
It feels like it’s either going to turn into a storm or simmer out, unaddressed.
I don’t like either forecast. I want to know what he’s thinking and why he’s here.
Instead, I decide to keep to the topic at hand. “Every year, my family collects all their spare change. We pool it together, split the total, and that’s our shopping budget for Black Friday.”
Harlan’s eyes widen at the jars on the bed. They vary in size, but each family member has their own glass container with their name painted on the top. “Where did you get this idea?”
I sigh. “With all of this stupid money from Steve’s insurance policies, suddenly there were no spending boundaries.
I know it sounds weird, but there has to be a limit.
It’s not reality that someone gets to buy whatever they want, whenever they want.
Spare change sets my limit for post–Thanksgiving Day shopping.
” I shrug. “My family decided to join me.”
Expressionless, Harlan blinks.
“However, they are total slackers when it comes to the actual coin conversion.” Returning Harlan’s stare, I gnaw on my lip. “What?”
“That is oddly refreshing.” He steps toward me and takes on a serious tone. “So, when I got here, I just dove into Thanksgiving with your family. But it feels like maybe we need to talk.”
Apparently he feels the tension too. Of course he does. I think the fact that he wants to talk about it should be a good thing, but the pit in my stomach doesn’t want to go anywhere near that conversation.
I glance to the door of the bedroom and nod in the direction of my family. “Maybe not here?”
He nods slowly, assessing. “Okay. Then what’s next for these coins? This sounds like it might be fun.”
I glance down at the bed, my stomach relieved we aren’t talking about us, but still holding a knot of tension knowing that discussion is coming. Maybe our errand will smooth things over.
“Yeah, well, you might not think so after loading and unloading these jars.” I pick up the smallest container of coins. “Let’s go, Hercules. Show me what you can do. We’re loading up and headed to Walmart.”
With a wry smile, Harlan leans over to grab the two largest jars. His broad, muscular shoulders strain his shirt.
As I enjoy the scenery, I realize I’m brilliant. Ask the in-shape, beautiful man to lift heavy things. Suddenly I’m overwhelmed with the need to rearrange the furniture in my entire house.
Harlan breaks me out of my trance. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”
The endearment causes my gut to clench and brings me back to reality. What is going on? Are we acting like this is normal? Is he going to bring up Olivia or am I?
As we drive, the leaky question faucet drips and drips, the pooling water threatening to break the dam holding back my anxiety.
Once we arrive at Walmart, Harlan pulls his frayed, faded ball cap low over his brow. He hops out of the car to grab a cart, then grins at me. “Let’s load up the booty.”
“What did you say about my booty?” My mouth had a mind of its own with that question, and I slap a hand over it before it says anything else without proper censoring.
Harlan stops the cart, throws his head back, and laughs.
The view is so mesmerizing, it erases my embarrassment. I giggle, shoulders shaking. “Sorry.” I pick up one of the change jars and place it in the corner of the cart. “You don’t have to go in the store if you don’t want to. But, just saying, you’ll miss the best part.”
“What’s the best part?” He does that attractive lifting-heavy-things act again, and I mentally applaud myself for bringing him.
“Watching the coins go down the chute, as the total gets higher and higher.” I lift Mom’s jar and place it in the opposite corner. “Total rush.”
“I didn’t come all this way to miss the fun part.
Let’s do this.” After unloading the final container, he moves the cart aside and closes the back of my SUV.
“But I am going to need some help maneuvering this thing.” He shifts his hands to the right side of the cart’s push bar and nods at the open spot he created for me.
“Wow, you really are a good actor. Your movies make you seem so strong and manly. I didn’t realize you’re such a wimp.”
Harlan’s gaping mouth turns into a knowing grin. “Yup.” He shoves my shoulder with his. “Poor little ol’ me needs some help.”
Once we enter the store and approach the Coinstar machine, the anticipation takes over. I clap my hands and rub them together. “Are you ready?”
He chuckles. “I think so.”
Our two-person system works well. He pours the coins on the metal shelf, and I put my hands on them to even the layers out as they slide into the machine. The raining coins clink melodiously down the shaft. As our treasure falls, the digital display tallies our bounty.
Turning to Harlan, I nod in the direction of the total. “What did I tell you? Isn’t this fun to watch?”
His intense gaze doesn’t leave mine. “Yes. It is.”
I gulp and turn back to pluck at coins lodged in the crevice.
About three-fourths of the way through, I cannot believe what I’m seeing. I jump up and down on my toes. “Stop. Stop dumping coins.”
Harlan pulls back the jar in his hands. “What is it? Are you okay?”