Inconvenience in Store

“Honey?” I mutter as I vagrantly waive my hand behind me, “What size are you in trousers?”

There is no answer.

Typical. I found a delightful pair of baby-blue linen trousers, perfect for the white linen button-up I found earlier, which I sent off with my husband to try on. I love shopping for men’s clothes, I find it much easier for some reason, though I do remember having a few lengthy discussions with men, including my husband, that say the opposite is true. Maybe everyone is just bored of what they’re used to. Anyway, although I’ve been married for five years and in that time have ‘forced’ my husband, like today, to let me shop for him, I can still never remember his size.

“Honey?” I call again while admiring the neatly sawn-in pleats and tidy pocket arcs of the hidden gem I’d found.

Still no answer.

“HON…!”

“Ah.. Ye… Yes? Are you talking to me?” I hear a timid voice respond.

“Yes honey, it’s me who’s calling.” I reply, with playful irritation.

It took me a bit to get used to but when shopping with my husband he disappears to another world, mentally I mean, it’s like a fugue state. I’m guessing he’d rather be somewhere else judging by the distance he puts between us when we’re out and about. In any case, I’ve learned through an extensive process of trial and error how to get the information I need.

“Listen dear,” I begin as I spot another nice pair hidden on the clothes rack, “I have some trousers here, what’s your size?”

There is a pause as I part the hangers to grab the new pair.

“Come on, I need to know.” I add.

“Ahh… a… I’m a size 34 waist.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.”

I divert back to the blue pair and file through the stock to find a size 34. I definitely saw it there before, or maybe that was different pair, nope there it is. “Here take this, and try it on please.”

I stretch my arm back with the baby-blue linen trousers and shake it vaguely toward my husbands voice. “Oh and hurry back, I think I’ve found something else!” I say with excitement.

He takes the trousers and says, “Ok, I’ll be back.”

Good, another success, then I feel my phone ring, I take my phone from my pocket to answer it, it’s my daughter.

“Hey sweetheart, can’t talk long, what’s up?”

A quiet voice speaks through the phone, “Hi Mum, um… there was a delivery this morning.”

“Mhmm, I’m expecting something, what is it?”

“It’s a bouquet of red roses, but…”

“Cool!” I say, cutting my daughter off.

Awesome! I hoped they would arrive. I’d ordered them for my husband, he got a promotion recently and I thought we’d celebrate. It’s been a while since we’ve spent any decent alone time together so was thinking we could send the kids to a movie and take the night. And he just loves deep red roses! I follow up with, “Just leave them on the counte…”

She interrupts me, she has more to say, “Ah.. but Mum…”, she blurts, “th.. there’s a card… and..”, she pauses.

“Oh? Ok, what’s does it’s say?”

“Well, it says…”, another pause.

“Yes?”, I encourage.

“It says Congrats! Much love! - Gabby.”

“Gabby?” I say.

Who's Gabby? Shook, I quickly dismiss it for the sake of my daughter.

“Oh…”, I chuckle nervously, “That must be your fathers assistant, she’ll be taking his old position and must be happy to congratulate him on his promotion,”

I almost convince myself, but I feel the lie’s pang. I finish with, “So, just leave them there and we’ll be home soon. Ok?”

“Ok, love you. Bye.”

“Love you too sweetheart, bye.” I hang up the phone.

Flowers from another woman? It's not completely unusual I guess, but why would he have told someone else, a woman, what his favourite flower is? No, I can't fall down this rabbit hole...

Catching me mid-thought, my husband returns from the change room with white linen shirt in hand. He taps me on the shoulder and I turn to face him.

“It’s a snug fit, but I think I can pull it off.” He says jokingly with a smug grin. Cute but I can’t stop myself from feeling snarky.

“You’ve been pulling off quite a lot recently,” I say, pause, then follow up with, "apparently."

He replies with a cheeky response, “Is that an invitation?”

I have none of it. “No.” I say sharply.

“Oh ah, did I…” he starts, but I quickly cut him off.

“Do the trousers fit?” Equally sharp.

“The trousers?” He retorts.

“Yes. The trousers. I just gave them to you.” I say with a slight sting, my mind begins racing while my concerns bubble to a growing frustration.

“I... tried... the shirt.” He replies sheepishly.

“Great.” I offer bluntly, “And where, prey tell, are the trousers?”

I'm losing my mind, I’ve never used the phrase ‘prey tell’ in my life, I can’t contain it, it’s only been a minute but it’s eating me my up inside, Gabby, who is Gabby? And why am suddenly loosing my husband? Where did this come from? Did I…?

“Honey…, are you ok?” He interrupts my downward spiral but I feel it rising to the surface, it's out of my control, I have to ask it.

“Who is Gabby!?” I shout out into an otherwise quiet store.

“Gabby? I… don’t know a Gabby.” He defends.

“She sent you flowers, Ike.” I riposte. “To our house.”

“Huh? Flowers?”

“Yes! I was speaking to OUR daughter on the phone and she said you received a bouquet of red roses with a note signed ‘Gabby’!” I divulge.

What am I doing, this is not me, I don’t do this, I don’t have outbursts in the middle of a shopping centre on Sunday morning, I just love my husband and I can’t…

“Honey… I don’t know a Gabby. I’d never…” He starts, with a bewildered tone, but I interrupt.

“You’re lying! Just like you’re lying about the trousers. I’ve married a lier!”

I completely break down and am on the verge.

“Oh my god, Abs! What trousers!?”

“THE…” I start so say as a stout man appears from behind my soon to be ex husband.

Who is this guy? Can’t he see you’re in the middle of something? He side eyes Ike then looks at me as he extends his arm out toward me and with a timid voice he says…

“I tried on the trousers, ma’am. Thank you, but they’re not for me.”

My eyes widen as it hits me. My entire body overheats as the embarrassment envelopes me like a tidal wave. My husband just laughs at me.

“Hahahaha… did you, haha, think this man was me?” He continues laughing, I'm paralysed, then he speaks to the timid man, “Dude, why did you take those trousers?”

The man responds, “Oh… I… well your wife is a very stern woman, sir." He sees my cherry red face, "Uh… well… I think I’ll go now. Good day!” He scuttles off quickly.

“That she is.” Ike replies with pride. He then leans in to embrace me in my state and kiss me on the forehead, but I repel him with a firm palm on his chest.

“Who is Gabby, Ike?” I say it straight but through a sob.

He seems to think for a moment then says, “Honey, did you also order flowers?” He asks softly.

“Yes.” I reply cautiously as I tilt my head up slightly.

“Ok, and did you order them on the phone from Booming Blooms?”

“Yes.” I reply again.

“You know the owner has a hearing problem right? So when you asked him to write a note I’m guessing you gave the name Abby?”

“Yes, I did.” I reply for a third time.

“Then yes, there is a Gabby, and although she’s a little frustrated and embarrassed right now, I love here very much and always will.”

It dawns on me how silly I was. My eyes start to well up even more but they dry themselves on the shoulder of my husband who I quickly squeeze tightly, intent on never letting go. His chest rumbles a bit as he chuckles to himself before whispering in my ear. “I can’t believe you thought I’d wear baby-blue trousers.”

I lift my head from his chest and with a pleasant sense of relieve flowing through me, I say with love and a slight smile…

“Shut up.”