"Remind me why we are here again?" Elliot asked.
Around her the sound of hundreds of people echoed off the mall's tiled floor and walls. Clusters of young girls poured in and out of stores, bags bearing bare chested man clutched in their hands.
"We are buying dresses for the rehearsal dinner," Cece said. "As well as picking up our bridesmaid dresses."
She stopped in front of a store window and cocked her head. Elliot settled beside her and mimicked her position.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"Huge fan," Elliot said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"I prefer the light over the dark," Cece said.
"Can you pull off brown?" Elliot asked.
"I can if I need to. I could get the dress custom made."
They both continued to stare at the display of boxes of assorted chocolate.
"A chocolate dress. It might be stiff, but I could eat part of it during the rehearsal dinner," Cece said.
"California wedding in July, remember?" Elliot said.
Cece made a face.
"So I might end up melting," she said.
"You would leave a huge mess on the floor."
"I'd be naked half way through the dinner."
"It wouldn't be the first time."
"Yes, but this isn't Michelle's fifth birthday party. And I'm not three."
Cece looked to Elliot.
"Keep searching?" she asked.
"Keep searching."
They kept moving, giving stores half hearted glances. Music played through speakers, drifting over the sounds of voices.
"Come on, we're going in here," Cece said.
They stepped into a smaller shop, elegantly designed and playing soothing music. Elliot looked around at the rows of flawlessly stacked shirts and cardigans.
"Gosh, I hate shopping. Why people find it entertaining it beyond me," Elliot said.
Cece casually picked up a top and looked it over.
"It fills the hole in their life," Cece said.
"I have no hole in my life. And if I did have a hole, ice cream would have already staked it's claim."
Cece replaced the shirt and moved further into the store. They entered a section filled with racks of dresses and Cece swept her arms wide.
"Ha! We have found it. The pot of gold at the end of our rainbow. The X on our map. The salt to our pepper," she said. *
"That's what you've said at the last two stores. I still don't think the last one works."
"Fine. You figure out the third one out."
Cece moved to the closest rack and started looking through it.
"The America to our Columbus," Elliot said.
"The lightbulb to our Edison," Cece said.
"The fat lady to our Opera."
"The blog to our sad introvert."
"The Youtube to our funny cat."
"The bodice ripper to our lonely woman."
Elliot rested her arms on the rack.
"I think we've gone to a bad place," she said.
"You were the one to mock my salt and pepper."
"I stand corrected."
They fell silent as they pawed through layers of dresses. Half way through the rack Cece became bored and stopped looking, turning her attention instead to the rest of the store.
"El, how are you and Beck doing?" Cece said.
"It's been two weeks and I've managed not to shoot him. He has managed not to stab me. I say something sarcastic, he replies with a comment so dry you could wrap it around yourself as you stepped out of the shower."
"So, you're on good terms then?"
"If terms were a city block then we would be on opposite ends, so... sure."
Cece smiled.
"Well, you're not going to believe this," she said, "your favorite person is in this store."
Elliot jerked her head up.
"John Williams!"
"Close, just drop away seventy years, add color to the white hair and an impassive expression," Cece said.
Elliot looked around the store, her gaze freezing on Beck.
"Tell me I'm imagining things," Elliot said.
"You're imagining things."
"Phew! That's a relief. For a moment I thought I saw Beck standing over there, talking to someone who can only be his brother."
"As long as we are imagining things, why not imagine going over and saying hello?" Cece said, already moving towards Beck.
"I'd rather shoot myself in the foot with a nail gun," Elliot said.
"It could be fun," Cece said, her voice litling.
"Shoot. My foot. Repeatedly."
Cece shrugged.
"Fine, stay here and shop."
Elliot hesitated then followed Cece. As they drew closer, Elliot sized up the man next to Beck. He perfectly contrasted Beck. Where Beck wore a union jack t-shirt and straight jeans, the man wore a crisp button down shirt and slacks. Where Beck's hair was unkempt, the man's hair was neat and parted on one side.
Elliot and Cece were only a few steps away when Beck noticed Elliot. His usually impassive express shifted to one of surprise. Before he could make some move to avoid them, his companion looked over. Elliot gave a small wave.
"Hey," she said.
The man's gaze jumped from Elliot to Cece and settled there.
"Hello," the man said, his tone smooth and polite. "Do you need assistance?"
Elliot looked to Beck.
"Actually, Beck and I-"
"Are friends," Beck blurted out.
Elliot frowned, but then cleared her expression, looking back at the man.
"Yeah we are..." She looked to Beck, giving him a strange look. "Friends."
"Grant, this is Elliot McKenzie and her sister Cece. Elliot, Cece this is my older brother Grant," Beck said.
Grant took Cece's hand with a flirtatious smile.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Grant said, holding Cece's hand a second longer.
"Same," Cece said, her tone careless.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here," Elliot said to Beck.
"Grant is the manager of this store. I stopped by to say hi," Beck said. "I'm guessing you're here doing some weekend shopping."
"More like mandatory shopping," Cece said.
Grant's forehead creased with confusion.
"We would both rather be running barefoot over hot coal than shopping," Elliot said, matter of factly.
"I heard that is the usual alternative to shopping," Beck said.
"I'm sorry to hear shopping is so deplorable to you," Grant said. "I hope you will let me know if there is anything I can do to improve your time in my store."
"Don't worry," Cece said. "I'm sure we will muddle through. Possibly one us will die during the endeavor, but casualties of war, right?"
Grant smiled while Beck fought back a grin.
"Please warn me if it comes to such drastic measures," Grant said. "I'm sure there is something I could do to put off the fatality."
Elliot laughed.
"Probably not. Mostly likely Cece will end up murdering me for not deciding on a dress," Elliot said. "If she told you before hand, you would be an accessory to murder. You look like a nice guy. I'm not sure jail is the place for you and Cece knows this."
Cece nodded.
"It's true. The good looking one's always go first."
Beck coughed out a laugh. Grant's smile widened.
"Then for my sake," Grant said. "I would prefer it if you restrain yourself from murdering your sister in my store."
Cece cocked her head.
"What if I did it with one of the silk shirts and paid for it?" Cece asked.
"Oh! There would also be news coverage," Elliot chimed in. "Great publicity for the store."
"I don't think murder is the way to go about drawing customers," Grant said, amused.
"You have to work with what you have," Cece said.
"Grab every opportunity you can," Elliot said.
"This is the basis of marketing," Cece said. "Taking a situation and turning it into a positive."
"So I should exploit a murder?" Grant said, his tone skeptical.
Elliot looked at Cece and shook her head.
"I don't think he really wants to see this store go anywhere," she said.
"I think you're right," Cece said. "Best to not murder you and save it for someone who would really utilize the situation."
Beck coughed again, the grin breaking across his face, as Grant gave Elliot and Cece an odd look.
"Well," Cece said, after a short pause. "We should probably get back to shopping and whatnot."
Grant nodded, his smile returning, though puzzlement still lingered in his eyes. Elliot looked to Beck.
"Right...I'll see you-"
"Around," Beck said, cutting her off.
Elliot gave him a funny look.
"Right," she said. "I'll see you around. Who knows? Possibly Monday."
"It was nice meeting both of you," Grant said.
The sisters returned the statement in kind. As they left, Elliot looked back at Beck, but his expression had shifted to his normal impassive state. Elliot and Cece made their way back to the dresses and started going through them once more. After a few minutes Cece broke the silence.
"I have a question for you," Cece said.
Elliot stretched her arms up.
"Ask me your question, dear child," Elliot said, in a lofty, ethereal voice, "and I will bestow my wisdom upon you."
"Oh great oracle why doth-"
"Doth?" Elliot asked, interrupting Cece.
Cece nodded. "I'm going with it."
"Alright. Continue."
"Why doth thy-"
"It's technically thou."
"My apologies"
Elliot waved a careless hand. "Forgiven."
"Why doth thou feel inferior to thy co-scribe, Beck?" Cece asked.
"Oh shoot," Elliot said, her voice retuning to normal. "I'm all out of that wisdom right now. Come back Tuesday."
Cece rounded the rack and stood beside Elliot.
"Come on, El? What is it about, not just this guy, but most college students or other people make you feel less than?"
Elliot moved away, not looking at Cece.
"Trick question. Can I phone a friend?" Elliot asked.
"I am your friend. Come on, spill."
"Water, milk or juice?"
"Truth in this instance."
Elliot met Cece's gaze across the rack and shrugged.
"I don't know," she said, dropping her gaze and intensely studying a dress, but not seeing it. "They know things. They've gone to classes and stuff. They're getting degrees. I have a high school diploma. I don't have a bachelors in literature. I'm just a girl who got famous from one book I wrote when I was sixteen."
Elliot's words hung heavy in the air, slowly drifting away. Finally she looked up and saw Cece giving her a flat look.
"That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard," Cece said.
"Yeah, well, it's how I feel."
"El. You've found your career and are making money off it. Without a college diploma! I have a friend who has a college degree and she works at a bookshop."
"Wow. You have a friend?"
"I know. Surprised me too. I'm trying not to make a habit of it. My point is she is only making minimum wage and she has a fancy piece of paper saying she has a bachelors in Forestry."
"Really?"
"Yup."
"You can get a degree in Forestry?"
"Apparently so."
"That explains her working in a bookshop. It's a forest of paper in there."
Cece cracked a smile.
"El, you're smart."
"Yeah, I know this. Kinda of. On a good day. Usually Thursdays. But Cece do you know what's it's like growing up the youngest of six? Surrounded by brilliant people? I never felt smart, because I was always comparing myself to you, or Tristan or Austin."
"But you've written a New York Times best seller," Cece said.
Elliot shrugged the comment away.
"Despite what you think," Cece said, "they don't put just anyone on that list. Except for one time when a dude bought all his own books. But that was just once."
"I'm not saying my insecurity is rational," Elliot said. "But gosh darn it! It's the only one I have so I'm going to milk it for all that it's worth!"
Cece shook her head.
"At least you understand how stupid your insecurity is."
"Don't worry, I'm fully aware of the fact. But for some reason that doesn't mean it goes away." Elliot cocked her head. "Besides, I'm a writer. I'm suppose to have all this self doubt and loathing. The way I see it I'm on the same track as all the greats."
"Sure. Jane Austen and Emily Brontë would be really proud."
"Can we please move on from this topic? I'll talk about it with my therapist later when I need to go for being emotional scarred by my interactions with Beck."
"Great transition. And sure."
Elliot gave the rack of dresses one last look.
"I've decided to go with the first dress I liked three stores back," Elliot said.
Cece gave her an annoyed look.
"So the first store we stopped at?" she said.
Elliot made a ponderous face.
"Yup, I guess so. But remember to strangle me in the other store. Grant wouldn't appreciate a good murder here."
Cece shook her head as they left.
"Some people are so ungrateful."
Fifteen minutes later Elliot and Cece moved through the mall, bags in hand, towards Nordstrom. The smell of greasy food filled the air as they passed the food court. Teenagers encircled tables, exchanging single words, their attention plugged into their phones.
"I wonder if Tristan has managed to make any of the staff cry in our absence," Elliot mused.
"We probably shouldn't have left him alone," Cece said. "We could be charged with child abandonment."
"The thing is, he's usually good with people. When he hasn't just come out of hibernation."
"We woke him up at 11:30," Cece said. "That is not that early. $20 says Tristan is still searching for a suit and has managed to make one sales girl cry."
"I say he's found his suit and is sleeping in the furniture section."
"Oh! Secondary bet, he is flirting with a make up girl," Cece said.
"Secondary counter bet, it's a perfume girl. He likes that they smell nice."
They entered Nordstrom and made their way to the men's department. Cece turned in circles, scanning the area.
"I hear no one crying or Tristan's annoyed grunts," Elliot said. "Let's head to the furniture section."
They descended a level and walked through the maze of couches, arm chairs and coffee tables. Elliot nudged Cece and pointed to a far corner. Sitting in a leather arm chair, with his legs out stretched and his eyes closed was Tristan. Cece and Elliot quickly made their way over to him.
"Sleeping in the furniture section," Elliot said. "I believe we agreed upon $20?"
Elliot held out her hand and Cece placed a bill in it.
"Cece make a comment about one of the models on the posters?" Tristan asked, still not opening his eyes.
"Yes," Elliot muttered.
He smiled and held out his hand. Elliot transferred the $20 into it. Cece cleared her throat.
"We went to four stores before Elliot decided that the dress she wanted was the first one she picked out," Cece said.
Tristan scowled and passed the money back to Cece.
"Thank you!" Cece said, taking the bill and put it away. *
"Now that we have all managed to remain in the same financial state as we were two minutes ago," Elliot said, "shall we leave and never come back to the mall?
***************
Elliot steered her way towards a shaded chair and flopped down. Milo made no sign that he noticed her. Elliot cocked her head, reading the title of the book he was holding. She watched him, smiling as he grimaced every few seconds. She coughed. Milo hit her on the head with the book and went on reading.
"Doing some cheap reading, huh?" Elliot said. "Is there a reason you are devoting time to Under The Moonlight Bridge?
"It's Cece's favorite book?" Milo replied, still not lowering the book.
Elliot smirked and leaned on the table.
"Did she tell you that?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Was she also laughing maniacally and tapping her fingers together?"
"Yes, but she does that a lot around me, so I wasn't alarmed."
"Milo, why do you think Cece told you that was her favorite book?"
Milo slowly lowered the book, giving Elliot a wary look.
"She wants to reenact the scene from chapter five with me."
"Not likely."
Milo tossed the book on the table.
"It's not her favorite book," he said, evenly.
"We've often referred to that book as the trash that should have been thrown out year ago."
"That little minx."
"Sure, that's the word for her. Pride and Prejudice is her favorite book."
"Why say this was?"
"I bet her $25 she couldn't get you to read it." Elliot said, giving him a wide grin.
"How amusing."
"I bet you $30 you can't convince her it's really a novel dealing with the struggles of poverty and the oppression in the North?"
Milo gave her a long, hard look.
"Do you realize that your family has a gambling problem?" he asked.
"Sure we do," Elliot said. "We have a bet going about how long it will be before we have to go to a meeting to deal with it. I'm optimistic that we can keep it under control for another two years. Cece says six months, depending on how fast our mother adds to the problem with her own bets. Tristan is the true optimist. He says we would have to carry him in his casket."
"Well," Milo said, "as long as you are aware of it."
"We are. So what do you say? Do we have a bet?"
Milo hesitated.
"Has Cece actually read the book?" he asked.
"Gosh no!"
Milo held out is hand and Elliot shook it. A second later Cece walked up.
"I've arrived!" she said, sitting down.
Milo smiled at her and leaned back in his chair.
"I finished Under The Moonlight Bridge," Milo said.
"Really?" Cece asked, with a mischievous glint in her eye. "What did you think?"
Milo's smiled wider as Elliot crossed her arms and sat back.
**********************************************************************
Hi!
So I have to ask, do you relate with any of the characters? I know I sometimes feel like Tristan, wanting to fall asleep in the furniture section, but apparently that is frowned upon. My piece of advice for the day, don't fall asleep in one of the chairs unless you are ready to book it when the manager comes. It's really a 50/50 chance whether they will chase after you.
Vote, comment, follow! If you haven't already jump over and check out Beyond The Barrier! It's complete and binge reading ready! Cheers!