Grow Up

"Grow up Brandon!" The girl's face was in a perpetual state of distress ranging from displeasure to outright rage.

In contrast, his face was a placid pond devoid of even the slightest ripple. "Jill baby, sweaty, I'm sorry." He stared into the palms of his upturned hands. "You know I'm tryin' my best."

An older lady, wearing a flowing light colored khaki skirt down to her knees and a rose colored floral blouse walked toward the couple. Three identical skirts swung back and forth on the hangers she was carrying them on. She stopped mid stride a few paces from the couple, turned on her heel, and walked back away. Her grey speckled bun bounced on the back of her head.

Jill's petite hands were balls of anger shivering at her sides. "Your best? You think that your best will ever be good enough? You need to be better than your best. Your not a child anymore Brandon, you're thirty five years old and you need to start acting like it. I cannot stand it anymore Brandon"

He looked up from his hands into her face, which was staring down at him. His eyebrows knit together and he tilted his head. "All I did was sit on the floor. I don't understand how that could make you so mad."

"Grown adults don't sit on the ground in middle of a department store."

"All of the chairs were taken and you've been trying on clothes for an hour. I don't see..."

She let out a growl and kicked his shoe. "I know you don't see. You never do. How can a grown man with a doctorate in cybersecurity be so stupid?"

He stood to his feet and straightened his grey plaid jacket with matching vest. His face softened and he took in a slow breath. "You know what Jill?"

She looked up at him and seethed. "I swear, if you offer me another excuse as to why you think it's okay to constantly embarrass me in public." She left the unmentioned threat hang in the air.

A slow smile spread across Brandon's soft face and he placed his large hand on her slender shoulder. "Oh, no, dear. This isn't an excuse."

"What?"

He rubbed his hand on her shoulder, "How long have we been together now?"

She picked up his hand using two fingers and dropped it from her shoulder like a used tissue. "Since we met in university. So, maybe twelve years?"

He grasped both shoulders and squeezed. "Fifteen years Felicia." His jaw clenched and his eyes became hard. "I've wasted almost my entire adult life so far with an ungrateful, hateful, hurtful, blow hard and I'm over it. You are very correct Jill. It is time that I grow up."

She struggled to release his grip. "Ow Brandon, that hurts. What are you doing? Stop it!"

"At first I thought you were beautiful, then I thought you were cute, but now I find you repulsive. I've tried to be there for you. To help you through whatever trauma has caused you to be this way, but if after fifteen years of taking your anger out on me while I absorbed it all without a cross word against you, then it's become apparent that it's not any trauma caused to you. You're obviously broken."

"Brandon! Let go of me. I swear I'll scream."

He looked past Jill and around the customers milling throughout the store. The only person paying attention to them was an older gentlemen in a sweat suit who had a dozen dresses draped over his arm. Brandon returned his gaze to Jill. "Look around. The only person who cares what is happening over here is that old guy who's probably been verbally abused by his ungrateful wife for decades. I almost guarantee you that he's watching us in hopes that I'll do what he wished he was brave enough to have done decades ago. Do you know what that is?"

Her face paled and all of the veins on her neck had returned to normal. She had ceased struggling against his hold and stared back at him. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me what that is big man?"

Brandon let go of Jill's shoulders and fished his phone from his pocket. He turned the screen toward her and pulled her name up on his contacts list. Then he hit delete. As he shoved his phone back in his pocket he turned to walk away from Jill.

Her eyes turned to slits as she stared after him. "Seriously? You think throwing a temper tantrum in middle of the store is the grown up thing to do?"

She started following after him when the sales lady in the flowery blouse held her hand out in front of her. "Excuse me, miss? You have to pay for your purchases before you can leave the store."

Jill's cheeks flushed as she looked down at the black mini-dress she was wearing. Her jet black hair with a large red stripe hung over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes. "I just need to catch him. I've been in here enough times, you should know that I always pay for my purchases."

The sales lady slowly shook her head. "He's always paid for your items, and after that scene I don't believe he'll be paying for this three hundred dollar dress. Change back into your clothes and then you can chase after him."

Jill straightened up and flung her hair behind her shoulder. "What is your name?"

"Nancy."

Jill smoothed down the black dress she was wearing and drew out the first two words in the sentence in exaggeration. "I do not chase after him. He chases after me."

"I have a feeling that is about to change."

Jill turned on her heel and headed back into the changing room. Back in her black shirt and faded tight jeans Jill stormed out of the store, dropping the black dress on the floor.