Page 11 of Absorbed

The woman came around from behind the counter and motioned for Stacey to follow her toward the back of the store. “Are you about five foot ten?”

Stacey nodded. As they walked, the woman pulled solid red swim suits from various racks.

“I don’t like to ask girls their size. Too many lie and most don’t actually know what would fit them best. But trust me, because I do!”

By the time they reached the dressing room, the sales clerk had selected eight different suits for Stacey to try on. After pulling back the curtain, she hung them inside.

“My name’s Rosie. Give these a try, but leave your underpants on, and holler if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Stacey said. She pulled the curtain closed, wishing she’d known about this store before the whole Lands End situation. With so many suits to choose from, at least one had to fit.

Each suit was more comfortable than the last, and they all fit Stacey better than any suit she had ever worn. The one pieces were long enough and flattered her waist and chest. Even though she still hated her thighs, the suits were cut to highlight her long legs, and somehow made her backside look smaller. The bikinis were designed for athletes, and made Stacey feel like she could pass as one. She struggled to decide which she liked best, wishing she could have them all. She knew she should choose by price.

The least expensive suit was eighty dollars. The two-pieces cost a hundred and ten. Even with the thirty percent discount flyer, she couldn’t afford more than one suit. She’d have a huge fight with her mom about it no matter what. But she’d already driven all the way there, and there was no way she was going home empty-handed.

Stacey stood in front of the mirror again in a red bikini and imagined herself at the pool. Jessie would walk in. She’d drop her towel. He’d see her and… She didn’t finish the thought. Without removing the bikini, Stacey reached for her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. She stepped into her shorts, zipped and buttoned them, and slid her feet into her flip-flops.

“You doing okay in there?” Rosie called through the curtain.

“I’m good. Thanks,” Stacey said, then bit her bottom lip. The sales lady was so nice. Stacey started to feel sick. She avoided looking at herself in the mirror. She took a deep breath, grabbed the cheapest one piece, and pulled back the curtain.

“How’d we do?” Rosie asked. She was straightening the hangers on a nearby clothing rack.

“They all fit great. Thanks so much for your help. I can only afford this one, though,” Stacey said, handing over the suit.

They walked together to the register at the front of the store. Stacey tried to stay a half-step behind, hoping the woman wouldn’t notice the bikini beneath her clothing.

Stacey clamped her arms to her ribs to stop her hand from shaking as she offered her mother’s credit card. “And I have this flyer,” she said, pulling the folded piece of paper from her pocket.

Rosie took it and looked up smiling. “Oh, you’re from Mesa Valley!” She began ringing up the purchase. “Coach Bob’s an old friend.”

Stacey’s heart was racing. Rosie is friends with Bob?

“You know, you remind me of my daughter. She’s tall, like you. She’s older now, but she was a swimmer in her high school days and hated searching for the right swimsuits.”

Stacey softened. “I wish you could do all my shopping for me,” she said quietly, surprised by the affection she felt for Rosie. “Your daughter’s lucky.”

“Well, bless your heart. What a nice thing to say!” Rosie winked at her. “Too bad you didn’t buy two suits.”

Stacey felt her face flush. Was Rosie hinting that she knew?

“Yeaaahhh.” Stacey forced a shaky chuckle. Sweat formed on her brow. If Rosie knew, would she call the police? Or Coach Bob? Or her mother? She felt like she was going to throw up.

“Here ya go, darlin’,” Rosie said, handing Stacey the swimsuit in a bag, with the receipt wrapped around her mother’s credit card. “I’m so glad you came in today.”

“Uh, thanks. Me too,” Stacey said, gripping the bag to her belly. “Actually…I need to, um… go straight to work,” she lied. “Is it okay if I change into my new suit here?”

“Sure, sweetheart. Go on ahead,” Rosie said, nodding back toward the dressing room.

Stacey maneuvered through the racks as coolly as she could. Holding her breath, she pulled the curtain closed behind her, eager to strip off her clothes. Stacey hung the bikini back on the hanger, and shoved it behind the other suits on the wall. Only then could she fully exhale.

After she put on the suit she’d purchased and was fully dressed again, Stacey finally looked at her reflection. She was disgusted with herself and couldn’t believe what she’d almost done. She leaned her head back against the back of the changing stall and waited for her pulse to slow.

On her way out of the store, Stacey waved at Rosie, but didn’t stop until she was back in her car. She unlocked the door and tossed the bag with her underwear and the credit card behind her into the back seat.

The sound of the bag hitting something solid made her turn in the driver’s seat. It had landed on her awful self-portrait from Ms. Moreno’s class, the one she desperately wished she’d never created. The painting that won first prize. Stacey had completely forgotten about it. She was grateful she hadn’t given Jessie a rideyet, or he might have seen the pile of art junk. She needed to take it into the house before she forgot again.

That evening after her shift at the pool, Stacey walked into the kitchen hoping to find her mom making dinner. Stacey had dumped the pile from the car into the entryway that morning, and her mom had strewn it across the counter like an investigation. Stacey’s self-portrait was face up, its ribbon still attached.

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