Ch. 2A - Shoes. Need I say more?
Best laid plans. She'd had another less-than-focused day at work. She had, however, at least found books for the next day's storytime, as well as a short craft. She just had to make a sample in the morning, and she was sure that would go just fine.

That settled, even if she did feel a little guilty twinging in her conscience for neglecting her job, she pushed on to the current matter at hand.

"I have nothing to wear on a date," Sara announced grimly. "Nothing."

"Nonsense," Anne said confidently. "You have plenty of clothes."

"Yes, but I have no one outfit that will make him sit up and go "wow." I have no 'wow' outfit." Sara sat on the bed, slumped.

"Then we'll make one," Anne said. "Try, um, try this." She pulled out a long grey jersey skirt and black silk top and matching jacket.

That outfit was quickly nixed, as were the next six.

"Okay," Anne said. "Okay. Maybe this?" She held out the hangers and Sara accepted them. Really, Anne was being quite patient, especially given that Sara was rejecting perfectly nice outfits with, "It's just not IT," but couldn't define what IT was.

Sara changed outfits and felt it. A slow smile spread over her face. "This is it," she said.

"Are you sure?" Anne asked, warily. "You haven't even seen it."

"This is it," Sara repeated, turning towards her mirrored closet door. The soft grey pants flattered her size ten curves, giving her a well-defined waist and draping beautifully down her legs. Her maroon lace top let tantalizing glimpses of her black velvet camisole peak through, with a wee bit of skin to boot. The dark red set off her light brown hair perfectly and she nodded, satisfied.

"Now, I need shoes."

Anne groaned.

***

Sara floated through the next morning. Her craft was done, her books pulled, and she was ready for her after-lunch crowd.

"Hey, there."

She looked up and saw Jason in front of her desk. "Is the computer down again?" she asked. She hadn't noticed any such thing, and she would hope that she wasn't that out of it.

"I was just checking on it," he said. "It's still up."

"Oh, good," she said, relieved.

Jason picked up her brown mouse puppet, that had been lying on the stack of books. "Cute. You make this all by yourself?" His green eyes twinkled teasingly.

"I sure did," she said. "Open his mouth."

He followed her instructions and laughed. Inside was a cardboard chocolate chip cookie.

"If You Give A Mouse a Cookie," she explained.

"Sounds silly. Is that the book Meg stole from out under me?" he asked.

"That's the one," she grinned. "It should be fun."

"You don't usually work on Thursdays, do you?" he asked, setting the puppet down.

Sara blinked, confused at the topic switch and then her mind blanked. "Oh, please tell me today isn't Thursday. It isn't, right?"

"Oh, no, no, it's Friday," he grinned. "Sorry. But I saw you here yesterday."

"Oh, right," she said. "No, I don't. I picked up some extra shifts, so I'll be around pretty much every day the next few weeks."

"Good to hear," Jason said, smiling. "I'll see you later, then."

It wasn't until recounting it to Anne later that afternoon during their pre-date call that she realized it had been their longest conversation to date, and the first time she hadn't felt tongue-tied around him.

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