And So It Continues (MBBF Sequel)

Emmett & the Yellow Polka Dot Umbrella

Emmett & the Yellow Polka Dot Umbrella
(Jamie: 15-years old)

I placed my hands on my knees, watching as they slipped off as I tried to catch my breath underneath this overhang that I just sprinted to.

Welcome to Florida, where the weather could go from bright and sunny to a torrential downpour all in less than five minutes.

I glanced up to see that I was standing underneath the overhang of a boutique. And the window of the store proved that it wasn't anywhere I'd ever step foot in on any day that wasn't today.

But judging by the way I was soaking wet and out of breath, trendy boutique seemed like a good option.

The door let off a little jingle as I stepped inside, and the sales girl glanced up from her magazine.

"Welcome to Posh Petals," the redhead said, flipping her magazine shut.

I ran my fingers through my hair, flipping rain water on the wood floor around me. "Um, sorry."

"Yeah, you look it."

Well damn.

I glanced around at the bright, colorful accessories around me. "Quite a place you've got here."

"You can't escape from the rain here," she informed me, returning to her magazine. "Owner's rules, she's quite the bitch. Can't use the restroom unless you're a customer. Can't loiter unless you're a customer. Basically can't be here unless you're forking over money."

"Who says I'm not here to look around?" I challenged, with a teasing smile.

She glanced back up at me with a wary look. "You're not our usual brand. We get the old knitting group ladies, the passing-by tourists, maybe the small business supporter who read about us online. Not you."

"That's very judgmental of you."

"That it is," she agreed. "That's also what I've concluded after working here for four years."

"I guess you have basis then," I said, leaning against one of the displays.

"Assistant Manager, one day to take over this dump when the old lady croaks. That's just what I do."

"And such a warm personality." I couldn't help but laugh as she flipped the next page of her magazine.

"I'm not here to be your best friend. Just to check you out when you buy something, seeing as though you're still here and all."

"Well Ms. Assistant Manager, what do you think would best suit me?"

"I'm not your personal stylist."

"You're not very good at this whole customer service thing are you?" I questioned, causing her to glance up and shoot me a glare.

"Not to annoying males who are just here to waste my time."

"I'm a potential sale," I argued. "You could lose money on me."

Her eyes flickered around the store before she nodded at a display near her. "That porcelain duck. I'm sure it would go nice with your home decor. It comes in many different colors, I'd suggest the sky blue for you."

"A sky blue porcelain duck?"

"Absolutely."

I crossed the store, studying the figurine. "Why would you sell this?"

"Because they're handmade by the pottery club that meets on Tuesdays. And we get them discounted and sell them at an up charge. Believe it or not, those things sell."