white linen

They had promised us a DVD player at the end of it all. Maybe a weekend getaway too; there was a sweepstakes, someplace nice like the Caribbean, I forget.
I told Jason three times I didn’t think it was worth it. We already had a DVD player in our apartment. It was old but it worked, it worked fine. For a Blu-Ray, maybe, or a Roku…
The tour guide was finishing his presentation on one of the premium options, a timeshare townhouse with a swimming pool and a lawn paved with astroturf. We were sitting in one of the resort company’s conference rooms, but I felt like I was back in a college classroom. I looked over at Jason and saw that his eyes were trained on the presenter. He looked pretty damn into it; if he was faking I had to give him props. It didn’t matter, though; the postcard had guaranteed us our DVD player if we stayed for the whole thing.
I looked around at the other people in the room. There were only couples. Several men were wearing button-ups tucked into pastel-colored chinos, holding hands with women in loose floral dresses. A few others wore jeans, wide on the men and skin-tight on the women, with t-shirts and sweatshirts and sneakers. It was clear who was actually interested in some stupid timeshare and who was just in it for the DVD player.
I guess we broke the trend, though, if there was one. I was wearing a nice purple dress and heels with all this gold jewelry my mother gave me, and I certainly wasn’t about to sign off on some seaside cabana. Jason had decided that we should look presentable, at least pretend to have some genuine interest. He supposed they might offer us better snacks or wine or something, there was going to be a lunch at the end. His job as a substitute teacher didn’t pay luxury-beach-condo money, but with a nice jacket and tie, he could have fooled me. I had to admit, it was nice to see him in something other than his usual weekend uniform of a flannel, t-shirt, and jeans.
I turned back to Jason, who was still staring at the presenter. I realized she was wearing kind of a tight dress, and as my eyes traced her streaked-blonde hair and curvy figure, I could tell there was a push-up bra under her Lily Pulitzer. Typical. These people knew what they were doing. She could probably get one of these idiots hooked on a summer condo in the middle of nowhere. But as I felt Jason squeeze my hand, I knew it wouldn’t be my boyfriend.
I nudged Jason with my elbow and gestured up at the clock. Only five minutes left if they kept true to the schedule they’d passed out in the morning. He nodded blankly and turned back to the presenter as I shook my head and smiled.

She finished her spiel eleven minutes later and directed us back to the reception area for lunch. Jason and I filled our cups with crappy Chardonnay and our plates with olives and cheese, then headed over to the table with vouchers for the DVD player.
“They better actually send the damn thing to us,” I said, nibbling on a piece of pecorino.
“Come on Kylie, don’t you think they seem cool? The houses?” Jason asked.
I shrugged. “If you wanna throw your money away to own one-sixteenth of a shack in Florida. Come on, it’s basically a Ponzi scheme. If it was such a great deal they wouldn’t need to bribe us in here.”
“I guess,” Jason said, sounding unconvinced. “Still though, kind of fun to think about, right? A vacation getaway and all sounds pretty nice.”
“I have work tomorrow, you know I just got that big promotion from corporate. And you have to teach. Let’s go fill out the thing and get out of here, I don’t want to schmooze with sales reps.”
“Fine, fine. Let’s at least enter the giveaway though, Ky, wouldn’t you take one of those tropical shacks for free?” Jason said.
I looked back at the refreshments longingly. “Okay, you do it. Promise me you won’t get too cozy with blondie over there though.”
“Oh come on, honey, don’t be ridiculous,” he called as I retreated back to the mini-bar.

We finally left that godforsaken sales tour and wandered through the parking lot awhile before finding the Honda. It was a hazy, early summer day in Seattle and it looked like it might rain, but I’d felt cooped up inside all morning. “Can we do something fun now at least?” I said to Jason as we got into the car. “I can’t let my whole Sunday go to waste.”
“Like what?” he said, turning the key in the ignition. “You still hungry?”
The car, Jason’s rusting old Civic, squealed for a few seconds before finally turning over. I thought the damn thing was on its last legs when I met him, but somehow it had made it another four years without a hitch.
“Not really,” I said, sniffing the exhaust fumes I’d probably never get used to. “You wanna go shopping?”
Jason clearly didn’t but I could tell he felt he owed me something after all this. “Sure, baby, let’s do it,” he said, pulling the car out of the parking lot. We drove to an outlet mall about twenty minutes away, listening to commercials on the radio the whole way. I missed my BMW’s SiriusXM but would have felt bad saying anything. Jason liked his car, and always insisted we take turns driving places, switching between his car and mine.
It started to rain just as we finally found a parking spot downtown. Jason popped the trunk with some effort and dug out a bent umbrella, and we huddled under it and speedwalked to Pacific Place Mall.
I led him into my favorite upscale department store and began to rifle through the racks as Jason lurked behind me. Eventually he got into it, amusing himself by holding up expensive designer shirts and dresses and laughing, but it wasn’t long before I found something I actually liked. Afraid Jason would check the price tag before I tried it on, I tapped him on the shoulder then raced into a fitting room. The dress was knee-length, loose white linen with ornate embroidery around the neckline. It fit like a glove and I even put my shoes back on to get the full look as I stood in front of the mirror.
I pranced out of the fitting room to where Jason was sitting, waiting for me. I spun around. “Who knew I could look so good in Givenchy!”
“What?” he said. “Kylie, isn’t that really expensive–”
“It’s not that bad. I’m getting my bonus check soon anyway. Why – do you think it makes me look fat?” I said jokingly.
“No,” he stammered, then forced a smile.
“What does that mean?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.
“It doesn’t look bad– you, you don’t look bad, I just… I don’t like it.”
“Why not?” I prodded. I could tell there was something wrong – I couldn’t remember a time Jason had ‘not liked’ a dress.
“It just reminds me of something, I don’t know,” he said.
“Reminds you of what?”
“You don’t like the other colors?” Jason asked.
“It doesn’t come in any other colors.”
“Didn’t they have it in black? On the mannequin?”
“I’m not going to a funeral anytime soon. Besides, I think it looks good. Maybe it’s on sale too. Excuse me?” I gestured to an employee. “How do you think this fits?”
“They’re here to sell clothes, of course she’s gonna–”
An employee with a plaster smile rushed to my aid. “Stunning!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands enthusiastically.
“Look, Ky, can you please just try on something else? What about that yellow one you liked? Or the floral?” Jason pleaded.
“What’s wrong with white? I don’t have a white dress,” I said. But as I said it, I saw Jason look down at his shoes with a frown that hit me harder than any yell or stare. He looked as if he were caught on a nail that was digging into him, and I couldn’t bear it. Turning back to the grinning employee, I apologized. “Don’t think I’m gonna take it today,” I said.
Jason looked up at me. I thought he was going to say something but he stayed silent. I went back into the fitting room and took off the dress, flattening it out carefully before putting it back on the hanger next to the mirror. I took one last look at the dress and my reflection, now separated, then left the fitting room and closed the door. Jason was still sitting there, not on his phone or looking around but sitting upright, watching me.
I smiled at him. “Come on, let’s go. There has to be somewhere with stuff you’ll like.”

We reentered the mall and walked up and down the brightly lit beige and woodgrain corridors. I happily passed up the other high-end department stores, and led Jason to a workwear outlet on the ground floor.
I eyed the khaki-clad mannequins suspiciously as we walked in. Not exactly Givenchy.
“Hey, I think I’ve got a 40% off coupon for this place if you like anything,” Jason offered.
I smiled. “Thanks babe,” I said, giving him a quick hug. A salesperson muttered an apathetic, “Holler if you need any help,” and Jason thanked him graciously. He walked over to the sale rack and began to rummage through wrinkled gingham shirts.
Jason ended up trying on a few but bought nothing, not even a nice teal button-down that I told him looked great. We left the mall and saw that the rain had let up a little, so we decided to sit outside for a bit at Westlake Park. Jason caught me rubbing my eyes, weary from our early start to get to the timeshare thing, and insisted on buying me a cappuccino. I downed it quickly and challenged him to foosball at the tables under the trees.
I was secretly glad to be free of the shopping I’d dragged both of us into and the day was looking brighter by the minute. After a few games and some joking at the expense of eccentric Seattle passersby, we sat down on the benches facing Pine Street. I put my arm around him and looked him in the eyes, smiling. But he didn’t try to kiss me – surprising for the romantic that he always was, even after so many years together.
“In the presentation, did you see the ‘tropical love bungalow’?” Jason asked, breaking my focus on his bright blue eyes.
“What? No, I– I wasn’t paying any attention, I guess. I just wanted to get out of there.”
“They called it the ‘honeymoon suite.’ Two weeks in it was like half a year of my rent.”
I shrugged, not sure what he was getting at. Jason wasn’t usually one for the finer things.
“It was so airy and nice, big king bed, candles everywhere, bamboo furniture, ocean view, white linen curtains flapping in the breeze…”
“I didn’t think you were paying attention, either,” I said, watching him. I had spent most of my morning watching the clock, not the condo photos on the screen.
“I swear I could smell the saltwater off the damn powerpoint slide. It was so romantic. I was just sitting there thinking about how we could possibly manage it, you know?”
I was surprised to see that Jason, usually a master of eye contact, was looking down at his shoes.
“Kylie, I just wish I could afford to...”
“Buy me things? Come on, Jason,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s the twenty-first century. We’re both adults here. I don’t need you to provide for me or anything. You still chip in for groceries, gas money, you always have.”
“It’s been almost four years though, and I’m still working the job I had when you met me. How are we ever gonna–” He stopped.
For a moment we just looked at each other, unsure of what to say. After all this time together everything had become comfortable, everything was shared. But suddenly I understood why he had been acting so strange. “White dresses are expensive too,” I said.
Jason nodded slowly, still deep in the hole the romantic timeshares had dug him into. “They tend to be,” he said quietly.
“I don’t know about you,” I started, “but I’m happy.” And I was. Jason had given me the best four years of my life and he didn’t deserve to be tangled up worrying about this, not now at least.
“Me too,” Jason said, turning to me and nodding. His unwavering eye contact was back.
“One thing at a time, we’ll be alright,” I said. “You must be hungry,” I said, and he nodded. “Come on, I know just the place.”
We walked back to the Honda and I told him I wanted to drive. Unlike my beloved German hatchback, Jason’s car was a manual, and I knew I’d have to stumble with the clutch. But he didn’t mind the occasional grinding sound from the transmission and we both usually burst out laughing when I stalled out at a red light – perks of driving a beater, I suppose. I managed to get us through the downtown traffic onto the highway and we cruised back to Fremont where we lived. I got off an exit early and caught Jason smiling beside me. He loved a good surprise.
We pulled into the Whole Foods parking lot and I downshifted sloppily, maneuvering the car into a tight parking space. I pulled the key out of the ignition and turned to him with a grin.
“You serious, Ky?” Jason asked, looking like he might burst out laughing.
“Can’t beat the variety,” I said. “You told me that once, if I remember correctly…” Jason had taken me to Whole Foods on one of our early dates, and it had been a running joke ever since. On days when we were feeling broke from our school loans and lousy salaries, we’d walk up and down the aisles sneaking handfuls of granola and grabbing falafels from the salad bar. Sometimes we came in the morning and stayed until lunch, waiting until the cheese tasting counter rotated. It was our thing for a while, but after I’d gotten a better job and started paying bills on time, we transitioned into actual restaurants and cooked meals.
As I climbed out of the car, I saw Jason looked happier than I’d seen all day. “Hey, no one will suspect anything of us dressed like this,” I said. We were still wearing our impress-the-timeshare-people outfits.
“True,” he said. “I wish it was Tuesday.”
“Why?” I asked.
“You don’t remember?”
I thought for a moment. “More samples. First Tuesday of the month is free sample day.”
“That’s my girl,” Jason said.
We walked through the parking lot, past mothers guiding their families with kids chattering and tugging at shopping bags for snacks. The sliding doors opened as we reached the entrance and an elderly couple passed us, clutching their week’s groceries. They offered us their basket and we took it and thanked them, but replaced it in the stack as we walked in.
Jason followed as I led the way to the first samples. A Whole Foods employee sat beaming at a small folding table draped in a spotless white tablecloth. The display advertised some kind of overpriced hot sauce, comprised of organic jalapeño peppers, sustainably farmed of course. The green-aproned lady passed us little cardboard cups of rice and we doused them in the bottled liquid, then clinked them together like glasses of champagne. Together we declared a toast to our free DVD player then emptied the rice into our mouths like a shot.

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