Page 74 of Salty Pickle

“That’s better,” Lucy says. “But only two. The ones I’m wearing and those.”

“We have a minimum spend, you know,” I tell her, although really, we don’t.

She turns in front of the mirror. “You’re terribly generous.”

It’s been a good morning. I woke up feeling different. Like, tired of her suffering. Crap family. Hard life. Knocked up.

I want to fix everything.

She seems so happy.

Her happiness feels good.

“Try on some more,” I tell her. “I want to see you in those short shorts. I seem to remember those thighs.”

She leans over to smack my shoulder. “Court!”

The sales woman smiles. “I predict a lot more babies where that one came from!” Then she hustles off to pull the shorts.

Lucy sits beside me on the bench. “That’s an interesting thing for her to say. Do you think we’re acting like a couple?”

“I think I’m acting like a sugar daddy.”

She smacks me again. “Like I would ever have one of those!” She fingers the various pockets down her legs. “I had to give up most of my clothes when I moved into the yurt. There isn’t a lot of space, and I only had two trunks that sealed tightly enough to keep the bugs out.”

This makes me grimace. “Everything you own is in the yurt?”

“It is. I stored some things at April and Summer’s place, but then they both left.”

“Does your yurt lock? Is someone stealing everything you own right now?”

She shrugs. “It’s made of canvas. There’s no point in locking it even if I could. You can slit the side. I don’t have anything valuable. No electronics or jewelry.”

“Is the yurt hidden?”

“Totally. It’s in the foothills on private property.” She laughs. “I have more to worry from raccoons and termites.”

I have so many questions about how she stores food and where she showers, but the woman returns with several colors of shorts. “These the ones?”

“Looks good,” I say and help Lucy up with a boost to her waist. “Let me know if you get tired. We can always rest before we go.”

“I can sleep in the car!” she says.

“Where you two headed?” the woman asks.

“The Farm Expo.” Lucy takes one pair of shorts and heads into the changing room.

The woman tilts her head. “Where’s that?”

“Upstate,” I say. “They show animals and have vendors and booths.”

“Sounds fun.” She hangs the extra colors of the shorts on the rack. “What else should I look for?”

“Comfortable things. I think the pregnancy is going to get harder before it’s done.”

The woman nods. “She didn’t want regular maternity clothes?”

“She’s so close to the end. She’s particular about companies and fabrics.”

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