Page 20 of Heart Strings

Chapter Nine

Abigail

Clothes flew in all directions, scattering across the room and taking my patience with them. “They have to be here somewhere,” I muttered, rifling through my suitcase for the thousandth time. A couple of dresses, pairs of jeans, shorts, yoga pants, tank tops, T-shirts, cute tops, bras, panties and one or two long things in case it got cool outside - everything I could possibly need for a vacation in Florida, right?

What’s that you say? People don’t just go to Miami for its restaurants, culture and other activities on dry land?

“How did I actually go to Florida and forget a swimsuit?” I growled, angrily smoothing down wisps of hair that had somehow collected static. They just stuck to my arms and tickled the crooks of my elbows.

I looked around at the mess I had made and groaned loudly. Clothes all over the bed, clothes on top of the dresser, clothes draped over the curtains (how had I thrown them so high?), and a wayward sock clinging to the lamp next to the bed. Al would get back from helping his mother sort through some of his old things at his parents’ house at any second, and he would see this disaster. If only I’d noticed the swimsuit’s absence sooner! I could have gone shopping this morning instead of practicing the keyboard.

I tapped my fingers rapidly on my leg. One more quick search, then I would clean this up.

My quick search turned into a painstaking ordeal in which I took each piece of clothing and laid it on the bed in a pile of its brethren. Shirts went with shirts, shorts with shorts, socks with socks, and so on and so forth until I had collected all the clothes in the room except for the few left in the suitcase.

There was still no bathing suit. I definitely just forgot to pack one.

“Come on!” I told my suitcase angrily, flinging a pair of black panties that was just the color of the bottom half of my bathing suit backward over my shoulder.

“What’s wrong with them?”

I squeaked and spun around to see Al take a corner of the panties in each hand and give them a tug.

“They seem okay to me. But I bet they’d look better on you.”

I blushed mightily and snatched them out of his fingers. “There’s nothing wrong with them. They just aren’t what I wanted them to be.”

“Oh, I get it - wrong color. I think blue would be sexier too.”

The panties hit his left pec with a gentlethwap.“No, you goofball.” I couldn’t but laugh a little, and my impatience and irritation melted away.No need to get so worked up over a swimsuit.“I just forgot my swimsuit, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well, that’s no big deal at all. We’ll just grab one on the way to the beach.”

Should I try to explain women’s swimsuit shopping to him or just let him find out? I decided to give it a try. “Shopping for swimsuits is hard,” I warned him. “Ninety-nine percent of swimsuits don’t fit.”

“That’s fine. It’ll be fun. Ready to go?”

I grabbed the beach bag with the towels, sunscreen and other necessities and followed Al out of the condo, frowning at his back. “How will it be fun?”

“Because-” Al spun himself half around, grinning. “You can model them for me.”

I made a noise somewhere between a snort, a laugh and a groan of despair.

There were a lot of condos on Miami Beach, so it only made sense that there was a clothing store within walking distance of Al’s condo building. The large place was bustling. Thankfully, the staff were clearly equipped and accustomed to dealing with so many customers, and we had no trouble finding an associate to direct us to the women’s bathing suits. Surprise surprise, they were almost right next to the door - this was Florida, after all.

As I browsed my options, I wondered how many women in this section had forgotten their swimsuits too.

“What size should I be looking for?”

I stopped with a black one-piece in my hands, considering. “I’m actually not sure. It’s been a long time since I shopped for swimwear.” Then I glanced at the one I was holding. “This is about the right size. What do you think?”

Al gave it a distasteful glance. “I think a nun might wear it to a pool party.”

I giggled and put it back. After ten minutes or so of browsing the wide selection, I ended up with three I wanted to try on. One of those three I really hoped fit me because I actually liked it a lot. It was a two-piece with a high-waisted bottom, but if I had to describe the pattern, I wouldn’t know where to start. It was stripped, sort of, but the stripes were blocky, colored pink, gray and white, and interrupted on the sides and between the breast cups with strings of fabric.

Plus, it had padding. I didn’t like it when people could see my erect nipples through swimwear fabric, okay?

“Try these on too,” Al said when I found him and told him I was heading to the dressing rooms. “One at a time, of course, and don’t forget to let me see.”

---