Pam and Jim wandered the Macarthur Square mall like their lives depended on it—and maybe, in a way, they did, he mused, as he looked fondly at Pam standing next to him and bouncing with excitement, when she’d been vaguely morose only a few minutes before. Well, not to be dramatic, not their lives. But some kind of relaxation from their walk and the spectre of Stamford at the moment, maybe.

She pointed to the directory. “Jim! It’s a Woolworths!”

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow. When she looked at him expectantly he dared another syllable. “And?”

“Those went out of business ages ago.” She bounced again, and he admired the effect. “My mom and grandma were always going on about them though. I can’t wait to shop in one myself.” She dragged him by the hand and he let himself be dragged (of course), only throwing out a muttered “Are you sure it’s the same Woolworths?” as she did so.

On the one hand, perhaps he should have muttered louder, since this was emphatically not the same Woolworths Five and Dime his family had also used to shop at. But it was a modern grocery store, but with Australian products, and so he had a good time. So did Pam after she got over her initial disappointment.

“But I was hoping to get, like, dresses and things.” She’d pouted for a moment and then shrugged. “But this licorice is nice too.” They wandered around the store throwing in random things into a basket. He was sure half of what they bought was just the exact same as he’d have gotten in an American store with a different logo, and the other half was candy and soft drinks.

Seriously, half the cart was candy. It turned out they each had a sweet tooth and the candy selection was entirely different here, so of course they had to get two of each. They’d have been willing to share, but…why bother?

Walking out of the store feeling refreshed and peckish, he pulled out a candy bar (a “Violet Crumble” it assured him on the wrapper, which rather made him think of Willy Wonka) and munched. “Where to now?” he mumbled around the honeycomb toffee—emphatically not what he’d expected from the name, but delicious anyway (though it made him wonder about the Cherry Ripe sitting next to it in the bag)—and gestured Pam onward with the other hand.

“H&M?” she said in a small voice.

“We have those in America, you know.” He grinned to take the heat out of the sarcasm in his tone. “But go ahead.”

“I know we do, but…” she shrugged and trailed off and he couldn’t let that go.

“But what?”

“But Roy never let me go shopping at one,” she finished in a small voice. “They aren’t in Scranton, you know, so…”

“So even though it’s like the world’s least expensive clothing store, you’ve never had the chance to shop in one.” He nodded. That was Pam’s life before, and he needed to stop forgetting that even if she was with him now she still had those expectations. A sudden feeling of warmth—sudden and surprising because he hadn’t thought he could feel warmer about her—swelled up through him. They’d figure out Stamford. They’d figure out everything. All that mattered was that he have this amazing woman with him along the way, and that they loved each other. “Go nuts then. I’ll go see how their selection of gray V-necks is.”

She looked him oddly. “Jim, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a gray V-neck.”

“Inside joke, sorry. Mark used to wear nothing but gray V-neck T-shirts when we were in college, and he still has a bunch of them. This one time when we were rooming together, his girlfriend dragged him to the H&M in Philly, and he bought nothing but four more gray V-neck T-shirts.”

**

“Ah.” She didn’t have anything really to add to that story, but there was something nice about knowing one of his inside jokes with his friend. “Does he still have them?”

“Last I checked, yeah. It’s all he wears to the Y for basketball, actually. I started wearing gray too, and so did a couple other guys, so when we play together we pretend it’s our uniform. I know, it’s dumb…” he raised a hand and she felt compelled to correct him.

“I think it’s nice. You all supporting him in his bad fashion choices.”

“Exactly my thought. Terrible. But you go into the H&M anyway.” He grinned. “I’ll be over here.” He pointed at a shop across the way.

“Sportsgirl?” She giggled at him. “Jim, I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re only half of that at best.”

“Ah, but you never know when you’ll need good support on the basketball court.” He pointed at the sports bra in the window. “Actually, I meant down the hallway.” He moved her to face where he was looking, and the feel of his hands on her shoulders was surprisingly nice. Whenever Roy had moved her to show her something it had felt invasive, but this just felt—calming. “I forgot my shaving cream.” She saw “Shaver Shop” on a sign down the hallway and nodded. “Makes sense.”

“See you in…whatever it takes you.” He smiled and she smiled back and he had to shoo her into the H&M. “Go, shop, enjoy.”

“Thanks.” She turned into the H&M and then turned back. Huh…where was Jim? She looked out towards Shaver Shop and didn’t see him. She started walking down the mall hallway and then stopped. This was silly. Why was she checking up on Jim? He’d probably just walked behind one of the advertising pillars in the middle of the walking area.

She walked back into the H&M, not noticing Jim slip into the Swarovski in the exact opposite direction of the Shaver Shop.