"I just want something to wear immediately; just another pair of shorts for between stores." I was pretty certain that we wouldn't be stopping at just one location. Otherwise we wouldn't be at a mall. I didn't have a problem with the plain blue t-shirt I wore. It wasn't snug across my tighter gut and I liked that. I took her hand and we found the men's clothing. Looking through the proffered racks of shorts for a minute, I realized I wasn't sure what size to get.Renée shoved me into a fitting room and started handing me different sizes to try on. Two days prior I had fit a thirty-six waist, but I was down to a thirty-two. The shorts Renée chose were also shorter than I would normally buy. They reminded me of shorts some of the other kids had worn to Phys. Ed. in high school. They were very short, had a small split on the outside of each non-existent leg and a draw string in front was all that held them up. The color matched my t-shirt, but that didn't make me feel any better about. Another woman, younger than Olivia, appeared during the first hour. Gail discovered she was Atwood and Olivia’s daughter–in–law, Clarissa. She helped as her mother–in–law did, but her English was much better than Olivia’s with less of an accent. Not long after Clarissa appeared, Atwood joined the group and was soon laughing at a joke one of the men tried to tell. He used a word, not the correct one, which made the joke even funnier. Atwood helped the man and sent every man in that corner of the room into peels of laughter. Olivia gave Atwood a very stern look and he blew her a kiss. She turned her back to him, so he couldn’t see her smile and shake her head at how childish men can be, calling them adolescente–almost the same word as it would be in English, just spoken in different syllables and accents. By the time Gail left, her head was swimming from trying to think in another language and she had a headache–but she felt wonderful. She managed to make herself understood to.
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