Change

8

As soon as I walked in the door of the first boot and shoe boutique, the harsh scent of chemicals in the air almost overwhelmed me. I hesitated at the door a moment before stepping inside, I’d been here too many times to count and I’d never smelled anything like this before, it confused me. The scent made me want to snort or sneeze to try to clear it from my nose. It was all I could do to keep my distaste of the strong odor off my face while we browsed through the store’s selection. I spotted a pair of boots that were a little like what I wanted, but not exactly, and asked the clerk to bring out a pair in my size so I could try them on, even though I was afraid they weren’t nearly as tall as I wanted. The slender, blond girl was smiling pleasantly when she brought me the box. I sat down and rested the box on my lap to open it. 

I lifted the lid and a burst of scent rushed into my face, like that first blast of scent that hits your nose when you break the seal on a package of coffee. It was the same chemical smell that had hit me when we walked into the store. Suddenly, I knew it wasn’t the store itself that suddenly had a new smell, but rather it was my nose picking up scents I’d never even noticed before. It was a struggle, but I did my best to ignore it. 

I slid my feet into the boots and zipped the zipper, which ran up the back of my calves to where the boots stopped, closed before standing and walking around to see how they felt on my feet. I rocked back and forth, flexing the muscles in my feet while trying to get a feel for how they would wear over time to determine if they felt good enough to overlook the fact they weren’t anywhere near as tall as I wanted as they only came up to mid-calf on me. 

When I turned back toward Isabel to ask her opinion, I heard it… a quiet voice I couldn’t place. 

“Come on, just get ‘em. It’s time for my lunch and I want out of here!” I glanced around, unsure if someone had slipped up behind me and was playing a joke, but the only other person, besides Izzy and I, in the shop was the clerk who had gotten the boots for me, and she was standing back at the counter where she had been when we walked in. She appeared busy with something on the counter but I could tell she was watching us out of the corner of her eye. I wondered briefly if she’d made the comment before I decided to ignore her and turned back to Isabel, pretending I hadn’t heard anything. 

“What do you think?” 

She stared down at my boots, her eyes squinting as she considered how they looked for a moment before answering “Well, they’re not really what you wanted, but they look good. If you want those, get them. Or we can always keep looking and come back if we don’t find anything better.” I walked over to the full-length mirror again and looked them over from several angles while I considered them. I liked them but they just weren’t what I wanted. They wouldn’t complete the outfit I had in mind, they would merely go with it. Deciding not to get them, I took the boots off and carefully put them back in the box the way I had found them. I thanked the clerk, telling her they weren’t quite what I had in mind but that I’d be back if I changed my mind, and then we left the shop, without my hearing anything else out of place.

Our next stop was another boutique shop. This time I was prepared for the harsh chemical smell and it didn’t bother me quite so badly. I got lucky and found a great pair of boots. They were almost exactly what I had in mind, only even better. These were black leather, had three and a half inch heels, they came up to mid-thigh, and they fit me perfectly. Better than anything I’d imagined. When I tried them on, I noticed the leather was a little stiff, but I knew it would soften with a little wear. It meant it was a good quality leather that would last well and be worth the price. I was so glad to have found them because it meant no more shops with the harsh odors and that, best yet, I wouldn’t need to go back to the first shop where I probably would have seen the girl who seemed to be muttering rude things behind me. 

Having found my boots, we were through shopping for the day. Izzy and I decided to split up until later and we went back to our own places, agreeing to meet at nine at the nightclub we’d picked out for our evening’s fun. I dropped her off at her car before I drove home. 

Once I reached my third-floor apartment, I thumbed the lock on the door and stepped inside. As soon as I closed the door behind me, I dropped my shopping bag just inside and started immediately stripping. I suddenly felt the need to shower right away. I had to wash off all the random odors I could still smell clinging to my skin from the things and people I had encountered today, plus it would give my hair a chance to dry before I had to style it. 

I was in the shower when I opened the bottle of shampoo I’d been using for the last couple of weeks, I was overwhelmed by the strong scent coming from what I had previously thought was only a lightly scented product. I struggled for a minute with the window above the tub. I finally managed to break the seal, which had formed when the sill had been painted over before I moved in, and let some fresh air into the room, or rather, letting some of the heavily perfumed air in the bathroom out. Even then, I rushed the rest of my shower so I could escape the room before the perfumes could give me a headache.

I dressed in a light weight soft green tank top and darker green shorts in a slightly heavier fabric to wear around the house, just in case someone should knock on the door or I should need to step outside before I got dressed to go out. I had a couple of hours and I still had to eat, I didn’t want to risk getting anything on my dancing clothes. 

It was as I was standing in front of the mirror brushing the tangles out of my shoulder length hair so it could dry that I noticed the small scar near my hairline. It was left over from when I’d run into a low hanging limb while chasing Cameron when I was about six. I’d had to have six stitches to close the wound and I still smiled at the memory of milking it for all the sympathy I could get from my older brother, who’d felt guilty for having been teasing me to begin with. It wasn’t really something I paid much attention to anymore, but it seemed smaller. I would have sworn it was at least an inch long, and now it seemed to be only slightly over half an inch. I’d have to remember to ask Bill about it.