“Yeah. Short, plump and has a hunch on her back. She’s trying to get the same guy I am, but whatever she bought I want to look better.”
Dylan took a large step backwards, his smile faltering as he looked at Grandma’s walker.
“So, you’re not actually riding a bike? You just want to look the part?” he confirmed.
Grandma’s eyes widened. “Oh. I hadn’t considered that. Maybe I should buy a bike. What do you think Molly?”
She didn’t really want to know. “I think you should start with the outfit. See if it feels like you.” Grandma and I were a lot alike in many ways, one of which was that we were both easily distracted by clothes. And shoes. And accessories. The pink sparkly drink bottles had already caught my attention.
“Good idea. See, that’s why I like shopping with you and not Lizzie. She just doesn’t understand these things.”
Did she though? Or was it a tactic she used to avoid shopping trips with Mabel?
“What do you suggest I get?” she asked, pushing her walker towards a rack of strange looking onesies.
“They’re our ladies’ bibs,” explained Dylan. “The high back keeps the wind from your spine while you’re riding. They’re really popular especially this one that we have in the pink.”
“I like the look of that,” Grandma added, taking the outfit he held out to her.
“Where’s the rest of it?” I asked, noting there were straps that held the pants up like braces, but the top seemed to be missing.
“A lot of women choose a sports bra and then cover it with a jersey.”
Well that was a relief. At least Grandma wouldn’t get arrested for indecent exposure.
“I’ll try that one,” she said. “What size do I need?”
By the time Dylan had selected her size and shown her to the change rooms, I was starting to panic. Once he pulled the curtain over to give her some privacy, I grabbed his arm.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed.
“Selling her an outfit. It’s what she wanted.” He looked confused.
“Yes, I see that, but do you really think you should be encouraging her?”
Dylan grinned, all teeth and dimples. “I’m just giving the lady what she wants.”
And upping his commission at the same time, I’d bet.
“Molly!” Grandma called from within her cubicle. “I need a bit of help. These pants are tighter than I thought they would be.”
I sighed and discreetly pulled back the curtain so that I could look.
Grandma was standing in her skin colored bra with the wide straps, her knickers so high they were almost touching her underwire. She had the bike pants stopped mid-thigh and a roll of skin hanging over the top of them.
“I need a bit of help tucking everything in,” she commented.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure we’d get everything in.
“Ummm, maybe you should consider a different outfit,” I suggested. “After all, you won’t actually be riding a bike, right?”
“You never know, and I like to be prepared. Come on, give me a hand. I know we can do it.”
I wasn’t sure I concurred with her confidence, but I bravely moved into the cubicle and started to tuck and pull. Grandma was one of those women who as they got older, they got thinner, leaving them with more skin than they ever needed. By the time we had the outfit up, I was sweating.
“What do I do with these things?” Grandma asked, holding the brace like straps out.
“They go like this,” I explained, helping her.
She stood back and checked her reflection in the mirror. Loose skin flowed out from everywhere the Lycra wasn’t. And considering this outfit was short legged and had no real top, that left a lot of flesh on display.
“I saw an episode of that cosmetic surgery show last night and this woman held all her loose skin in with duct tape. Do you think your mother will have any of that?”
I shivered. “I don’t think that would be a great idea.”
“You’re right. Maybe I could get one of those shapewear undergarments instead.”
“Maybe you just need to add the jacket,” I suggested, pulling it from the hanger and handing it to her.
I admit that once it was on the whole thing looked a lot better.
“I’ve still got good legs.” She smiled and jiggled a leg out for me to admire.
“Yes, you do.” Shame about the skin, but I wasn’t about to point that out.
“Oh look,” Grandma squealed. “This outfit’s got built in incontinence pads.”
I jolted as she grabbed her crotch and smiled.
“They’re not pads. Well, they are but not for that. They are there to keep your bits comfortable when sitting on a bicycle seat.”
Grandma swished her teeth. “Well, that’s disappointing. Maybe I could switch them out for the pads I have at home,” she mused, narrowing her eyes as she checked her reflection.
I groaned.
“What?”
“I really don’t need that kind of information.”
“You say that now but wait another fifty years and see what your opinion is then. You’ll be wishing you’d made notes of all my great ideas.”
She was probably right.
“I love this outfit,” she added, smoothing an imaginary crease from the fabric. I knew it was imaginary as the outfit was way too tight to have any creases. “I’m going to buy it.”
“You have checked the price, haven’t you?” I had, and I wasn’t sure her pension paid her enough.
“They are a bit expensive, but I have some savings stashed away.” She leaned closer. “The government gave me a grant for some incontinence pads, but I didn’t need to buy them as Doris at bingo died and had boxes of them left. Her daughter gave them to me, so I tucked the money away for a rainy day.”
“Do you need help getting out if it and back into your dress?” I asked as she smiled at her reflection.
“Nah. This was way too hard to get into. I think I’ll leave it on for the day.”
Dylan grinned like all his Christmases had come at once when grandma also bought the white shoes with the black strap (as they apparently matched her new earrings) and I treated myself to the water bottle. As he tallied the till and announced she owed $659 I nearly fainted. Mum was going to go ballistic.
****
Grandma was happy and earned herself more than one smile as we exited the store. I figured the smiles were condescending, but I applauded grandma for owning who she was. She didn’t care what the woman with the blonde grey hair thought of her, and she certainly didn’t care that the woman hid her smirks behind the rack of men’s jerseys.
Instead, she swung her bag from the handlebars of her walker and strutted herself to the car.
“Ted is going to love me in this.”
“If he doesn’t then he doesn’t deserve you.”
“You’re a good person Molly. You know that, right?”
“Thanks Grandma. I don’t think Grannie Carol would agree with that though.” I remembered the look she’d given me yesterday.
“Urgh! Don’t worry about that uptight woman. Her problem is she doesn’t know how to relax. She needs to let go and have some fun.”