"You've gotta be kidding."
"What, no… it's nice!" Doug flipped the hat over in his hands, inspecting the fake furry lining and then the leather outsides. "It will keep you really warm!"
Tom rolled his eyes and grabbed a knit cap, pulling at it, and then tossing it back in the pile. He seemed un-nerved by the proximity of there bodies in the store. Doug dangled the hat out in front of him by a flapped side. "No, still hope you're kidding." Tom said looking increasingly distracted.
"Not kidding…" Doug said, still standing there in the isle as Tom walked back down towards the coats. Slow as it was back at the chapel, thoughts where racing in his mind. They had set off to find lunch, but the 40 off sale sign in the window had drawn them in on the way to the car; the bitter wind of the approaching winter helped. He herd Tom grunt shifting the heavy rack of coats around and Doug's hand flexed around the hat protectively as a women and child squeezed around him in the shop.
In his mind the hat suited Tom, and only Tom. Checking behind, making sure he was occupied, he made is way to the check out counter slapping the hat down on the counter, then upon it's purchase shoving it inside his coat, while the teen-aged sales girl, gave him an odd look, her gaze shifting as Tom hauled a large winter coat up onto the counter.
"Whacha get?" He asked, seeing the sales slip in Doug's hand
"Uh…some boots, they're on back order..." He stammered out, not sounding, in anyway overly convincing, but darting the sales girl a nervous glance as he shoved the receipt in his pocket and walked outside to wait by the car.
On the way back, not much conversationally was exchanged. Doug was trying to act buddy-buddy, they way they had decided, but images kept flashing in his mind, seemingly to far away now, not close enough in time to make them seem real again, but vivid enough to make him become ever so aware of the movements of the man next to him.
"Friendly." He muttered under his breath.
"What?" Tom asked, signaling to turn, his car bouncing into parking lot. He parked and stopped the car, turning in his seat to look at Doug. He sun was coming in over Doug's shoulder; shining on Tom's face. Not enough to make him glare, but enough to illuminate his eyes and cast shadows on his face. Doug could feel his willingness building up, but suddenly he felt his own hand groping for the door handle, and found was stumbling out onto the pavement. He walked right back into the chapel without looking behind him.
He bypassed his desk and walked up the locker room, quickly doing the combination on his locker. Ripping the hat out of his coat, he threw it into he main compartment, shoving it down underneath the current occupants made up of other clothes. He cursed himself mentally for buying it, it wondered if he would have ever even giving the damn gift.
He opted to slamming the locker door shut instead of just turning and latching it. Waking to the top of the stairs, he could see Tom caught at the door by Blowfish. Doug descended slowly, taking in where everyone was seated: Jude at her desk, Harry chatting on the phone, Booker hitting on some blond in uniform.
Hitting the bottom stair he walked briskly over and sat at his desk, grabbing a stack of papers and a pen, determined not to look up from his desk until the end of the day.
He wasn't going to look up, not at all. His mind told him to just take another sip of coffee and continue working, only a half a hour until you can go. But reaching for his cup, the white Styrofoam betrayed him, empty.
He would have to go and get some more. The only problem was that he could see Tom's desk from there.
You are not a seven year old with a crush, Douglas; A voice in his head spoke loud and clear.
Doug stood, walked the few feet to the refrigerator and pored himself another cup. Without even thinking about it, his eyes flicked to Tom's desk, and then skimmed over his. He took swig of coffee to advert his eyes and burned his tongue. Pulling back he made a face, scowling into the coffee. Coughing, he reached for the bottle of creamer and glanced back at Tom.
A smile, and honest, amused smile extends from one side of his face to the other.
Replacing the bottle, Doug returns to his desk.
The next day, Tom Hanson arrives to his desk finding a plainly wrapped package sitting discreetly on his desk chair. Checking around to see if anyone is paying particular attention, he tears off the wrapping and then the gift box lid, revealing the furry lined, leather outside, flapped winter hat.
All he can do is laugh and roll his eyes.
The Implications of a Hat- By Jen (Nov 2005)