she's my winona; brendon urie au

six

"Oh, um, hi.  I'm Carly." I said sheepishly.

He held out his hand for a handshake.  It was an unfamiliar gesture, but like magnets our hands found their way to each other.  If we weren't in a children's store right now, I'd claim it to be love at first sight.  But, unfortunately, I'd generally have a tough time explaining to my children that I met their father at Boots.  I shook Brendon's hand slowly and cautiously.  I didn't want to lose this moment.

"Nice to meet you Carly.  Is he yours?" Brendon asked, gesturing towards my arms.

Wait, what?  Oh, the baby, right.  Yes, I am, in fact, holding a small child.

"It's complicated . . . but not really, just in my permanent custody." I say, laughing nervously to lighten the mood.

It's weird, I almost subconsciously told him everything that has happened to me in the past three days.  My mouth is like a basin, waiting to pour everything into an ocean that isn't there.  It's kind of funny actually; when something bad happens to you, the world keeps moving, completely oblivious.  Vise versa, too.  I could be standing across from a man who just lost everything he had in a fire, and I wouldn't know.  I wonder if he thinks like me.

"Oh, well he's cute enough to be yours." Brendon smiles.

What?  Wait was I complimented?  Shit, I was.  My brain stuttered; I've never really been complimented like this, in a situation like this. I guess I've never really been like this before, so.  I don't know if that counts for anything.  I can't help but to think about how awkward it is to compliment someone with a baby.

"Aw, thanks."

I wish I could've thought of something better to say.  I figured I'd lose his interest at the fact that I'm a young woman who now has to take on the responsibility of a baby.  I hadn't thought ahead to this scenario.  I am utterly rolling off my own tongue, and not notecards.  Can you see the flames roaring or is that just me?  As always, it's just me.  Back to the real world, Brendon asks the name, I tell him Marley.  He says cute; what he was supposed to say.

"What are you doing shopping for baby stuff?  You look far too young to have one of your own," I return, hoping he catches my shared interest.

"I'm actually returning stuff, but I decided to look around a little, too." He says-and for a minute, I swear I see sadness somewhere in his eyes.

I ignore it though, silently contemplating whether to press the subject.  I decide against it, though.  We are strangers, after all.

"Fun," I say, to break my tie of words.

Then I got an idea.

"Hey, if you're familiar with baby shopping, do you think you could maybe help me out?" I ask, twirling my hair until I realize that I'm twirling my hair.

That's the thing about doing flirtatious actions. Usually, when you're naturally attracted to someone, they just kind of happen.  He probably knows that, too.  Essentially I'm acting like a middle-schooler more interested in a crush than her schoolwork.  Something I never successfully lived up to.  I don't know what it was, I guess Greece's invasion of Ancient Egypt always intrigued me. It's also pretty weird that I just assumed he's familiar with baby shopping.  Everything is weird.

"Oh, yeah, sure.  Just not actually baby questions, I don't have too much experience in that department."

When he says it, is almost like the sentence is naked.  Like it's missing something, altogether.  Like a paragraph without nouns or verbs.  A room without a door.  A child without his mother.  Empty.  But I nod, disregarding my feelings and smiling lightly.  Something I've grown to be fairly good at.