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Drama Fiction Speculative

“How does the chair feel?”

The sudden voice startled the woman standing in the otherwise silent showroom. Despite there being no noise whatsoever in the expansive room, she failed to notice the other woman settled comfortably in the wicker chair, parked right next to her.

“Hm? Sorry?”

“Oh, I was just wondering how the chair feels. I’m looking for tables for my patio and was looking at this set. Are you looking at this set, too?” She smiled, figuring it would only benefit her to converse with another patron of the store, especially if they had similar goals in mind. She had to, if she was looking at the same tables and chairs. Why else would anybody be in the same showroom? While she was thinking, the seated woman smiled warmly and leaned forward, placing her hand on the glass table, then removed it and inspected the oily handprint she had shed on the reflective surface.

“Yes, and this chair is quite comfortable. Would you like to sit down next to me?”

“Oh, are—are we allowed?”

“I’m sitting, aren’t I? No one’s come after me yet.”

The woman bit her lip contemplatively—she didn’t want to get in trouble, she was just coming into town and didn’t want attention her first day in the furniture store, but she figured if the other woman could, maybe it was alright. She had been standing in her heels for hours now and although she wouldn’t admit it to her husband, her ankles did hurt…

Adjusting her skirt on the way down, she almost placed her other hand on the table before rethinking it at the last second and plopping down without grace. Luckily, she thought, the chairs have cushions. She smiled at the other woman, who was now simply the woman seated across from her, for a hint of reassurance. “Oh, well, I guess I should. We’re both paying customers, right? We should be able to test the furniture if we want to buy it.”

The other woman’s face dropped. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you believe me just now?”

So did the first’s. “What?”

“I’m not looking to buy the table. The chair’s not even that comfortable, and I have no clue what the rules are around here. Even so, nothing’s gone catastrophically wrong so far, has it?”

“…Oh.” The woman cringed, looking around to see if anyone had seen her sit down.

“But it’s nice to play pretend sometimes, isn’t it?” The other woman blabbered on, smiling as if she weren’t possibly breaking a rule just then. This was suddenly greatly annoying the woman, who shifted uncomfortably.

“I—I wouldn’t know.” Her heels clattered on the shiny, hard floor as she scrambled to get up, almost slipping before catching herself on a corner of the table. She retracted her hands as soon as she regained her balance, looking incredibly embarrassed as she stammered with her words and her movements. The other woman looked down to see shaking legs, then looked back up with an eyebrow slightly raised. “I think I should be going…”

“I thought you were thinking about buying the table—if you leave without giving it some more thought, your little excuse goes out the window.”

The woman looked at the other in disbelief, shaking her head a little. Did she hear that right? How disrespectful, when she was the one who had made her believe it was alright in the first place!

“You don’t even know if we’re allowed to be sitting down here in the first place!” She whisper-yelled, balling up her hands in muted anger. Her nails dug into her palms, joining many other similar marks.

“And yet you’re still sitting across from me, arguing over something so easily correctable. All it takes is an employee to walk over and tell us to get off. Doesn’t seem so scandalous now, hmm?” The other woman looked smug. Too smug.

“Enough of this. I am a rule follower and I am—” The woman took a short breath and tried to at once appear more collected. She pulled her bag further over her shoulder, closer to her collarbone, snapped her legs together and placed both her shaky hands on her purse strap, looking down at the other woman with condescension. “I am an actual customer, and I am off to buy another table. This one has hand-prints on it. Good-bye.”

As the woman walked away, the one still seated took an empty wine glass and swished it around as if there was wine inside. After a moment of swishing the glass around, she got up and walked over to the sink in the next door kitchen model, setting the wine glass down on the counter next to her and sighing while leaning over the sink with her head bowed.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

The woman held up a hand and stayed still for a moment before turning around and placing her hands back on the counter next to her, flipping her hair as she did so. She stared at the man addressing her and he stammered to continue his interruption of her quiet time.

“Uh, sorry to bother your, uh…anyways, uh—have you seen my wife around? We’re looking for table sets together and I saw she went this way—”

The woman pointed in the direction his wife went in and the man went quiet. “You’ll find her that way. She was talking to me earlier, actually. We were discussing this table right over there.”

“Oh. Did she say she likes it?”

“Very much so. This might be the table.”

“And are you, uh…” His eyes wandered over her attire and she rolled her eyes, knowing his next question. “…a salesperson?”

“Heavens, no. I could never. I may be great at speaking quickly and looking confident but I choose my words far too carefully to fall into that career,” her hand flew about as she talked, making it seem as if it were the speaker, not the head that controlled it. The man simply watched in growing unease.

“Oh. I…see. Are you shopping too, then? We would appreciate the help—”

“No, if you find your wife and ask her she’ll tell you; we simply talked about testing out the furniture,” she interrupted yet again, not bothering to let him finish his sentences when she could so easily predict his next words.

“Is that allowed?”

She smiled. He smiled back, but there was something different in his eyes than hers.

“You and your wife are very similar.”

“So I’ve heard.” He clasped his hands together and glanced at the direction the woman had pointed to earlier. “It was lovely meeting you, and thank you for indulging my wife. I know she’s not easy when on a mission like this.”

“She’s no hassle. I’ve interacted with worse characters. Hers seems alright.” That, at least, was the truth. And the least she could say, but it would suffice.

“That’s good to hear. You have a great rest of your day, now.” And with that, he was off, before her words like a hand pulled him back to where he was standing, listening.

“Mhm. What an odd phrase, don’t you think?”

“What?” Irritation began to bleed into his voice, but only slightly. Just a hint of a tone. No need for more, but was it even conscious?

“Almost like you’re commanding something from the other person, no? Like they are owed you best wishes and you are owed the fulfilment of those same wishes you just gave away. It’s all a bit silly, don’t you think?”

The woman looked up from her glass and saw an empty showroom again; she chuckled to herself before walking away with a twirl, setting the glass down on the table again before spiriting away to the next section. She walked over to the gardening section and began studying the plants, taking the little pots into her hands and talking to them.

“How are you today, Fred? Are you being taken care of well? No complaints at all? No, no, of course I come to visit you! You and all your friends. You’re all a precious bunch.” Her quiet murmuring could be heard down the aisle, but just barely. The soothing voice calmed not only the plants but the person speaking kind words to them.

“Hello again.” The sudden intrusion would have startled someone else, a true patron maybe, but the woman had been here many times before and knew he would be back soon enough. She had gotten used to his appearances and appeared unbothered as she gently placed the cactus back into his spot in the nursery.

“Bye, Fred, I’ve got company.” She whispered as she placed Fred back down where he belonged and turned to the employee standing at attention.

“Hello there, young man. How long have you been standing there?” Her sun hats never failed to make him smile, and right then was no exception, even as she was talking directly to him.

“Not too long. We just got another complaint about you, and I have to be the one to tell you, but I didn’t have the heart.” He bit his lip and looked down at “Fred,” visibly gearing up for a confession of some sort. “I like how you talk to the plants.”

Ah, there it is.

“Well, they need someone to talk to them. Look, poor Bernice is wilting like she’s been diagnosed with something grave. Look after these bunch, won’t you?” She prattled on, intentionally being superfluous with her chatter in order to spare him a few seconds of not having to do what he obviously didn’t want to. Besides, she had come to enjoy conversing with him, too, although the plants would always be her number one choice. They often listened better than any human ever could.

His eyes became a little softer around the edges, sadness rounding the sharpness of his corners. “Yes, ma’am, I will. I’ve grown attached to them, too, just from watching you talk to them.”

“Hopefully they won’t be sold to a cruel owner.” Her disgust was eminent and he hoped she would be back the next day.

“Yeah, hopefully not. Now, on behalf of my manager, please leave the store for the day. You’re welcome to come back tomorrow, though! But, uh, don’t tell my manager I said that. It’s our secret.” His smile brought a twist to her own lips.

The woman smiled and leaned in towards him a bit. “Ours. Until then.”

“Goodbye, ma’am. Have a nice rest of your day!” The man called out, watching her leave, then sighing and turning around to return to aisle 10, where the complainer resided temporarily. Her husband soothed her with hands gripping her frail arms but she remained shaky.

“Thank you,” the husband gave his gratitude to the employee, who simply bowed his head.

“Glad that could be taken care of.”

And he was gone, shaking his head when he was out of view.

The first woman stood, watching the door and through the huge window in the wall as the other woman walked across the parking lot to the bus station located just at the sidewalk on the other end. It was a busy street and it didn’t look like the bus would be coming soon, but the other woman slowly made her way across the hot pavement.

The first woman stared and wondered what it was like to be so free with her actions. She was envious, she had realized after reporting her. Lord only knows why she was so preoccupied with being seen as proper, and that lady had ruined what she had been thinking of as a good shopping trip. The awkwardness was still steeping in her bones, the feeling of that interaction sticking to her like sweat and oil that refused to be washed off by even the coldest of showers.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. She could picture it: maybe one day she would be that older woman, hanging out in showrooms to make the younger ones fall into conversation and leave handprints on the glass tables. She shook her head; it was a laughable idea. But…

With one last glance towards the bus station, she could make out the smaller figure of the other woman still walking at a medium pace, almost reaching the end of the parking lot.

June 01, 2024 00:16

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