2019-12-15 - The Happiest Time Of The Year

It's the happiest time of year. The time when one must make the over an hour long journey to a decently sized city in order to purchase Christmas gifts. Beth and Ciprian woke up early, drove the hour and a half to Tacoma despite the weirdness that happened on his birthday, and hit up the Target for toys. Next they went to the Mall for the adult presents.

"Okay." Beth says as they step through the sliding glass doors. "I need to go to Macy's to get my dad and grandpa ties and my grandpa some golf shirts. My mom wants this old lady perfume and I try to get her a necklace every year so we can probably get her there. My grandma likes Bath and Body Works. So that leaves my sister and brother-in-law, my funeral attendants, and the funeral home's housekeeper and maintenance man. But I can probably get them gift cards. Where do you need to go?"

Ciprian has a bag with some toys in it, though not too many, since a dad who doesn't let his daughter win games probably also doesn't buy her that much stuff. But don't worry, everyone, Ashira will have a happy Hanukkah.

"I need to get something for Riya," he replies, shifting the bag onto his shoulder, since it's one of those reusable totes. "I guess I'm just going to look around and see if I see anything. She's hard to shop for." It's said a little wryly, though his tone is also fond.

"What does she like?" Beth asks as they walk past oversized Christmas ornaments sparkling with lights decorating the middle sections of the mall causeway. Bing Crosby plays over the loudspeakers. A woman pushing a sobbing toddler in a stroller walks past them. "We could google around and see if there are some specialty boutiques downtown to hit up if we can't find something she likes here."

Ciprian glances toward the crying child, and there's a look of sympathy that crosses his face as he looks up to the woman. Call it parental solidarity. He then turns back to Beth, replying, "She likes weird stuff. You know, off the beaten path, not everyday things. So yeah, there might not be anything like that here, but we can try. I usually know it when I see it." He glances over toward one of the stores that they pass, which happens to be a Forever 21. Probably nothing in there.

Beth doesn't exactly look surprised when Ciprian says this. She doesn't know Minerva well at all, but she knows of her from high school, and clearly it's not a hard impression to come by. "Okay." She says with a nod of her head. She doesn't spare a glance at Forever 21 as it is not her aesthetic, either. "You didn't celebrate Christmas as a kid, right? You just do it now for Ashira because her mom did. So all of this..." She motions to the entirety of it. "How was that like?"

"You mean all of this, like Christmas stuff every year?" Ciprian asks her with a look her way and a little smile. He glances around then, and shrugs, his eyes moving toward one of the window displays with a little Santa's workshop diorama in it. "You got used to it. I always felt a little bit left out, I guess, but it wasn't too bad. I think that's just the nature of things when you're a kid, right? You don't want to feel different than everyone else. But I had enough friends who celebrated Hanukkah that I didn't feel like we were the only ones."

"Conformity." Beth says with a slight smile. "That's good. That you weren't the only ones, I mean. I think it would be much harder for the one Jewish family in a little town than if there were several families." She spots Bath and Body Works and veers off in that direction. A bottle is picked up and she squirts it into the air before wrinkling her nose. "Everything here smells like food." She says in a soft voice to Ciprian. "It has always concerned me that people want to smell like food."

"Exactly," Ciprian replies with a little chuckle. He follows Beth into the store, though his expression also shifts into something that makes it clear the smells might be a little overwhelming for him, too. So much fruit and vanilla. "Well, people like food," he says, "so it stands to reason they might want to smell like that to attract someone who also likes food." He shrugs, spreading his hands out -- that's his guess, anyway.

"So do you think those people have a deep subconscious desire to be eaten?" Beth jokes before she reaches for a vanilla sugar cookie gift set. "My grandma loves this stuff. She's going to smell like sugar cookies until Spring when she runs out. Which is fine because then she switches to cherry blossom." She seems vaguely amused by it all. She starts towards the checkout line. "If they make a line for men they should make sprays that smell like steak and tacos."

"I mean, don't you?" Ciprian's eyes widen a little bit as though the revelation that she might not want to be eaten is very surprising to him. His gaze moves to the sugar cookie spray when she takes it, though, and he has to laugh. "I don't know whether I'd love to smell that because it would smell delicious, or if it would just make me constantly crave sugar cookies," he admits as he moves toward the line with her. "A steak line of cologne would probably sell well. But I think an alcohol one would be better. Whiskey body spray."

"Not in that way." Beth retorts, because how could she not take that one? As for the sugar cookie spray she says, "Well, at least grandmas are supposed to smell like baked goods. It's not like going to the club and dancing with a girl who has doused herself with caramel apple glitter spray." She nods her head a little in agreement that steak cologne would be awesome. "They put whiskey in the fancy men's colognes. Because I guess men want to smell like a manly study? It's always like whiskey and leather with amber or sandalwood." She reaches the front of the line and offers her credit card over. Soon enough it is returned along with a bag filled with tissue paper.

Ciprian snorts at her reply, eyeing her for a second or two, though with a little smile as well. What he says, however, is, "Well, there you go. What man doesn't want to smell like whiskey and sandalwood? I mean, I probably would if I knew what sandalwood smelled like. Probably like someone's work bench, I'd imagine." Once she's paid, he starts for the exit, sticking a hand into his pocket as he looks around again, though more absently than anything else.

"Whiskey and sandalwood isn't the worse thing a man could smell like." Beth acknowledges after she has stepped away from the counter. "And sandalwood doesn't smell like a work bench . I mean it smells like wood, but super fancy wood and it has this powdery quality to the scent?" She shrugs a little before adding, "You've definitely smelled it before even if you don't know it. It's really common." They start down the wide walkway between stores again. "Oh hey. It's a little antique store. Do you want to go in there and look for your sister?"

"Yeah. I've been a teenage boy, so I think I know the worst thing a man could smell like," Ciprian replies a little dryly, though still with some amusement. "Or at least one of the worst things." When she describes sandalwood, though, his eyebrows raise. "Huh," he says. "Well, there you go. I guess I'll have to go figure it out, because now I'll just be wondering."

When they pass the antique store, he looks inside, and pauses, his expression becoming thoughtful. "Sure," he says eventually, "why not? There could be something good in there." He starts inside then, passing by a brass lamp with a brief glance, though he doesn't spend too much time on that one. "Let me know if you see anything good."

"Ew." Beth says with a laugh. "And we can probably find a sandalwood scent in Macy's or Sephora if you're curious."

When they step into the antiques store she starts towards the case near the front full of old jewelry. She gazes down at it before she calls out, "Ciprian?" She waits until he comes over before she points out a dainty little bracelet made from silver links that is slightly tarnished from age and very dark black beadwork. "It's jet." She tells him when he approaches. "People used to wear it when they were in mourning. I don't know if your sister is into that, but she seems to like black."

Ciprian is perusing a shelf with some books on it -- though that may be more for him than for Minerva -- but when Beth speaks, he looks over, and then takes a step closer to examine the bracelet. "Oh, that's lovely," he agrees as he leans in a little closer to it. "She might like that. Maybe there's a box here to put it in, too." He smiles, straightening up and looking back to Beth. "This is why it's good to go with a friend," he says. "You can help me figure things out, and I can help you practice your explanation of what sandalwood smells like. I'm sure that comes up a lot."

Beth lets out a little snort, "Are you calling my description of sandalwood deficient?" When the sales clerk comes over she says, "Can we see the bracelet?" She points to it and that's when a little gold locket with an enameled front decorated with painted tulips catches her attention. "And that, too?" The clerk takes both out. She leaves the bracelet for Ciprian to look at, and picks up the gold chain of the locket. Her brow furrows ever so slightly, as if suddenly concerned, and when she takes the locket itself between her fingers a shaky little breath leaves her.

"I would never call your description of sandalwood deficient. It was like you transported me into a box made of sandalwood." Ciprian takes the bracelet once it's out so that he can look at it more closely, and since he's doing that, he doesn't immediately notice the change in Beth right away. He does, however, hear that little sigh. He turns, his brow furrowing in a little bit of concern. "Are you all right?" he asks, setting aside the bracelet he's looking at. "What happened?"

"Umm..." Beth begins in a shaky voice, "I'm okay. I think I just need to go to the bathroom and splash some water on my face." She practically shoves the locket into the sales clerk's hands, and rubs her hand on her knee like it's dirty. "I forgot to eat breakfast, and I think it's caught up to me. Just...finish here, and I'll meet you outside the bathroom, okay?" She starts towards the door out of the antique shop then walking in a fast, determined manner towards the bathroom.

"Okay." It is clear Ciprian does not believe her, but neither does he push it at the moment. Instead, he finishes the transaction in the shop, exiting with the bracelet and a little brass box with interesting etchings on it to hold the bracelet. He doesn't go to the restrooms immediately, either, but instead heads to the coffee kiosk to get them both a cup. It's then that he starts over to where she said she was going to meet him again, after having given her ample time to do whatever she needed to do.

It's good that Ciprian kills some time getting coffee because it takes Beth nearly twenty minutes to come out of the bathroom. Her eyes are red and puffy like she had a good cry in there, and her winged eyeliner behind her glasses is not as crisp as it was at the start of the morning. She smiles at him, forced and under the pretense that nothing is wrong with her, as she starts towards him. "Sorry." She says, and she asks, "Did you end up buying it?"

"You don't need to be sorry," Ciprian says with a shake of his head, and he holds up the bag with a nod, though the bag doesn't really tell her anything, since the stuff he bought is inside and not visible. But still. "I did," he says. "Thank you." He hands her the coffee that he'd gotten her, studying her face for a second before he continues. "I know you're not fine," he says. "You don't need to tell me about it, and I won't push you, but you can if you want to. You've seen me pretty freaked out before, too." There's a little smile as he says this, though it's brief.

Beth takes the coffee and murmurs, "Thank you." She takes a sip. When he says she's not fine she smiles, but it lacks humor. "Sometimes I touch something and I become an emotional wreck. That's all." She lifts a hand to tap her temple, "I'm certifiable. That's what's wrong. I probably belong upstate." She laughs in a forced manner before she changes the subject, "Do you want to head over to Macy's? Or we could eat if you want."

Ciprian lets her speak, listening intently, though when she says she's certifiable, he shakes his head. "I don't think that's the case," he says, his tone gentle. "I think you should talk to my sister. I can give you her number if you want. It sounds a lot like some things she went through, too, honestly." He doesn't say anything more about it, though, and instead says, "Let's go to Macy's, and we can eat after. I like to get everything done at once." Shocking!

"Well, it feels like it." Beth says, and she sniffs back what looks like may be a few more tears, but this seems to be borne of frustration. "I'm not the type of person who just starts crying. Everything is orderly up here. It makes sense. And that..." She motions vaguely in the direction of the antique shop, "It doesn't make sense. I hate it happening to me." She nods her head softly, accepting what he says. "I'll talk to her if she doesn't mind." When he suggests they go to Macy's next she says, "Okay." Then she has another sip of her coffee because warm drinks are great for lifting spirits.

"I don't exactly know how you feel," Ciprian admits, "but I can understand. I've lived here a long time." And obviously he's seen his sister -- if he thinks Beth's stuff is similar, it must be because he's seen similar things happening to someone else. "She won't mind," he says. "That's basically what she does. I'll give you her number, and you can call her whenever you feel ready." He takes another sip of his coffee, too, before he starts them toward Macy's, because the sooner they get it done, the sooner they can eat, right?

"Thanks." Beth says, and she manages a small but genuine smile as they start towards Macy's. When they reach the entrance to Macy's and begin passing all of the cosmetic and perfume counters she goes, "Oh hey! Sandalwood." She reaches out to snag his sleeve to give it a gentle pull to stop him before she grabs a bottle of high end overpriced purfume as well as one of the thick paper samplers. Squirting some perfume on the paper she offers it to him.

Ciprian doesn't say anything more about it -- instead he just walks with her into Macy's, looking around absently now that he doesn't have to figure out anymore gifts for anyone. When she finds that sandalwood, though, he looks back over at her, and a little laugh escapes him. "Look at that," he says. "Now it's not just browsing on the web that listens into our conversations and finds us products we're talking about, it's real life, too." He does take the piece of paper then, and smells it. "Oh, this," he says. "Yeah, I've smelled that before."

"Siri is always listening." Beth warns with a light wagging of her brows. Whatever upset her? She's snapping out of it quickly, at least. When he says he has smelled sandalwood before she goes, "I know. Cause it's in a shit ton of colognes and perfumes." She starts drifting towards the men's clothes then to search for ties and golf shirts and whatever it is old men like wearing these days. "You didn't say much yesterday when I brought up the news article." She glances at him curiously before she goes back to looking at ties.

"She really is," Ciprian agrees with a mildly horrified look, though it's marred somewhat by the smile that's also on his face. It fades somewhat when she brings up the article again, and he shrugs, making a little wry face. "There's not much to say," he admits. "It was a pretty hard hit piece. The official line is we're not going to rise to the bait. She's not wrong that there are things that look bad about the situation, but..." He spreads his hands out a little helplessly.

Beth finds a tie with mallard ducks on it, and drapes it over her arm to purchase. "That's what the evidence points to, I guess?" She wonders aloud before she shrugs her shoulder. "It really has nothing to do with me. I'm just nosy. A guy I used to date is a detective and it has been so hard not to text him about this. Especially since I think he worked on the case." She continues sorting through ties, and snags a few more before she drifts over to shirts.

"I can't talk too much about it," Ciprian admits, "since it's kind of ongoing. In a weird way. But I think it's hard not to be nosy about it, when someone puts out an op ed like that." HIs tone is dry, and he glances back toward the exit, as though that was going to give him some further insight on the subject. Unfortunately, it does not. "But I promise that when I can, you'll be the first person I tell, okay?" This has his smile widening just a bit.

"Oh man your friendship really does come with perks." Beth says a little teasingly, looking up from sorting through shirts to grab a few more she likes. "Okay. So necklace and old lady perfume for mom. And now sister and brother-in-law." She sighs, "I don't know my brother-in-law at all. When you were married would a gift card from your in-laws have offended you?" She drifts towards the jewelry counter to look at the necklaces.

"I like to think so," Ciprian confirms, and he turns to look through the ties as well, since ties are a staple of his wardrobe. He does not select any for the moment, however, and instead follows her to the jewelry counter. He has less interest in looking at these things, and therefore is more focused on the conversation. "I don't think it would have offended me," he says after a moment's thought. "I think I would have thought it was nice that they thought of me."

"Well, that's because you are a reasonable person." Beth jokes before adding, "I mean I haven't seen evidence that my brother-in-law is unreasonable so I'll try the gift card route." She finds a necklace she likes, gold with a small infinity pendant, and waits for the clerk to give her the box before drifting towards the women's perfumes. "White Diamonds is what we're looking for. The oldest of all old lady perfumes."

"Am I? That's nice to know. I hope I'm at least somewhat reasonable." Ciprian has to let out a laugh when she reveals the last gift that they have to find, however. "Wow," he says, "I haven't heard that in a while. I think my grandmother used to wear it. I remember seeing it in her vanity, anyway." He begins to look around for it, his eyes sweeping over the display.

"Your grandma and my mom would get along it sounds like." Beth says in amusement as she continues scanning the shelves for the bottle of perfume. "My mom is such an old lady. Like she acts older than my grandma. Or maybe my grandma is a Cool Grandma. Who knows. But my mom has always worn White Diamonds." She stops looking to look over the display at him. "Do you remember the commercial? It's like fancy car and then fifty year old Liz Taylor at a casino in Monte Carlo or somewhere else in Europe taking off her earrings and being like-" She straightens up to pretend to be Elizabeth Taylor, and mimics her accent. "Here! These have always given me luck!"

"Probably," Ciprian admits. He quiets then, watching her as she re-enacts the commercial, and he lets out a laugh. "I haven't thought about that in years," he admits, "but yes, I remember." And with that, he turns to pluck the very fragrance in question out from among the other old lady fragrances around, handing it to her with a flourish.

"Ah ha! You found it thank you!" Beth cries out, pleased as she takes it. She holds it in her arms for a moment before she sighs a little. "I remember thinking when I was old...you know, like twenty-five old? I'd have earrings like that." She adds in amusement, "Should take out a mortgage and get them for myself. Lord knows a man isn't going to." She asks, "You don't have anyone else to shop for?"

"I'm not sure if taking out a mortgage to buy yourself giant diamond earrings would make you my hero, or make me question your sanity," Ciprian comments with a laugh. "Probably both, honestly." He shakes his head when she asks this, though, and says, "No one else. I don't have many friends I exchange gifts with, and we already ordered my parents a new dishwasher."

"You know people often questioned our dear friend Liz's sanity, and she is now a famous starlette who has the most popular selling perfume with women over 65 in the entire world." Beth comments loftily as she starts heading towards the women's section to find her sister something. "You know I think getting a dishwasher from your kids is probably much better than getting it from your husband." She observes with a small laugh.

"Indeed she is! And she married Richard Burton, twice, and there's no one else in the world who can say that." Ciprian follows her wherever she's going to go, looking around as they walk before his gaze returns to her. "It's certainly less aromantic," he confirms, "since gifts from your children are probably not supposed to be romantic. At least, I assume they're not. I guess I can't speak for everyone."

"Richard Burton as Marc Antony was when I realized men are pretty neat." Beth says with a grin. She stops when she spots a cocktail dress on a mannequin. It is navy, off the shoulder with light gold flowers embroidered on it and a sheath skirt. She reaches out to touch the fabric a bit longingly. "Yeah, that'd be a little weird. But when you were married did you buy stuff for your wife that was always romantic?"

Ciprian stops when she does, looking at the dress in a less covetous manner, but he does notice her look. "Not always," he admits. "The romance does kind of fade after the first few years, and you have to work at it." Of course, he's in a different boat than some people, all things considered. Divorce and all. "Why don't you treat yourself to that?" he asks, in an apparent non-sequitur as he gestures to the dress.

"I mean eventually after the courtship is done it's all more practical, right? You can't be madly in love doing the same things you did when you were dating your entire life. It's unsustainable." Beth makes a little face at his suggestion. "I don't know. I'd have to try it on. It's probably too short." She is tall for a woman. "I have a little black dress that I usually wear for the New Years Eve party..."

"Right. And it's generally okay, too. Or at least, I think it's okay." This may have been part of the problem with his wife, though he doesn't say that. "People change and evolve, and relationships evolve. Once you have a kid, priorities change." He shrugs, before he turns back to the dress, looking from it to her. "You should try it on," he says. "Live a little, why not?" He says this last with a 'Yiddish' accent and a grin.

Beth looks conflicted for a moment before she says, "Alright. But you tell me if it looks bad or I will make you listen to Nickleback all the way home." She goes to take a dress from the rack in her size, and starts towards the dressing rooms. She is in there for several moments before she opens the door slightly, "Hey...Ciprian?" She calls out, and peaks through the tiny crack in the door for him.

"I'll tell you," Ciprian promises. "That's pretty much the worst punishment I can imagine, so you know I won't lie." He smiles, then sits down to wait, reaching into his pocket for his phone to look at it while he does so. However, it's not too long before he's looking up again. "What happened?" he asks, standing a little bit awkwardly, like he's unsure of what is happening.

Beth gives him an awkward smile from between the crack of the dressing room door. "The zipper is stuck and I can't get it up." She then moves her head and winces. "And my hair is stuck in the zipper, I think. I kind of need help so I don't rip it out." She remains standing at the crack in the door with a sheepish look on her face.

"Oh no," Ciprian says, his eyes widening a little bit. "Okay, hold on." He starts toward the door -- still a little awkwardly, it must be said -- but he's certainly not going to leave her to her own devices. "Let's see," he murmurs, and when she turns around he examines the zipper. Excuse the phrasing.

"Okay," he says again, "this will be fine." It's fine, Beth. Don't worry. He starts to untangle her hair first, and once he does, he finishes zipping it all the way up.

It's awkward alright. The dress is zipped up to the middle of her back, and the fabric pools around her shoulders and chest since it isn't zipped tight. Her bra is exposed, which it may be slightly awkward for one's platonic male friend to know that you enjoy plaid push-up's but that's where they are now.

Beth has to lean her head back slightly to keep from pulling her hair out, and she winces as he detangles. When she's finally free she turns to look back at Ciprian before she looks at herself in the mirror. Hands are smoothed over her stomach, and she smiles. "Oh hey. It's nice."

How nice, Beth. Excellent choice. Though whatever Ciprian actually thinks about it, he certainly does not comment on it. Instead, he just does what he needs to do and steps away, probably a little more quickly than he has to. He does, however, look at how it looks, since he's been tasked with telling her whether it's terrible or not. And indeed, it is not.

"It is nice," he agrees. "You should get it. Early Christmas present to yourself." He smiles as he looks back up to her, "Treat yo' self." It sounds a little funny, coming from him, but hopefully she gets the reference.

"Maybe it'll distract from the bald spot I just gave myself zippering up my damn hair at the Christmas party." Beth gives herself one last look before she reaches for the handle of the dressing room door and pushes it open so he can step out. "Um, I'll get out of it, and we can check out, and then get out of here for lunch and go home." She waits for him to leave, and changes into the clothes she wore into the store. And then they do exactly as she suggested.