Fanfiction: "The Agony of Defeat"-FNL
The lie tasted bitter on his tongue and Eric crossed his arms. He grimaced, hoping it would pass for a grin. “Yeah, it look’s great, babe.”
“Does it make me look fat?” Tami twirled in front of the triple mirrors, looking over her shoulder at the back of the dress.
“Fat? You could never look fat.” Eric glanced at his watch. Every other day this week, he had been coaching Smash after the team had finished, watched game tapes all evening and dealt with the other demands of being the athletic director. It figured that his one day when he had nothing pressing to do, Tami insisted that he go help her pick out a dress for Jason Street’s wedding. “That one looks great on you. Really.”
Tami pursed her lips at her reflection. “I don’t know. The skirt is kind of big.” She tossed a glance at the hanging rack with her other five selections. “Let me just try on the red one again.”
Eric widened his eyes in panic. That would entail another trip out to the shoe department to find the right shoes to go with that particular shade of red. “No!” At her startled look, he held up his hands. “I mean…why do that when what you’re wearing is the perfect dress?” He cocked his head and made a motion with his hands. “It’s so nice and…and puffy…yeah, that’s it. It’s puffy.” He grinned for real this time, sure that he’d hit on the right adjective.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Puffy? Is that just another word for fat?”
Fear drenched him like a cold shower. “Haha! I didn’t mean puffy. I meant, it’s just, you know, just fluffy. Around the waist there.” He pointed at the large satin bow in the rear of the dress. “And that bow. It’s a great bow, hon.”
“You think so?” Tami’s eyes opened wider as hope filled them.
His confidence soared. He could make the save after all. “Oh yeah. It just draws the eye right away from all the polka dots.” Maybe he’d get back to the house and be able to catch the last half of the Cowboy’s game. He could almost taste the beer and pretzels.
“What’s wrong with the polka dots?” She stepped towards him and prodded him with her index finger. “Don’t you like polka dots? I think they’re cute.”
Eric swallowed, not sure if he was treading on dangerous ground. Was she serious? He stepped back and rubbed his hand over the spot she had stabbed. “Cute? Yes! They are adorable. My mom has a polka dot dress. It’s my favorite.”
Tami glared at him and spun, holding her hair up off her neck. “Unzip me.” Her voice reminded Eric of Sigourney Weaver’s in Ghostbusters. He half expected her to inquire if he was the keymaster.
“What? Aren’t you going to get this one?” He mourned the beer and pretzels. Eric wished he could call a time out and regroup. It was fourth and goal. He had to go for it. “Come on, babe. It’s a great dress. Nobody’s gonna be looking at the bow or the polka dots anyway. The way the top dips down...” He wiggled his eyebrows and then winked at her image in the mirror.
Tami’s mouth dropped open and she slapped a hand across her chest. “Are you implying it’s indecent?”
Without a word, Eric slid the zipper down. He knew when it was time to punt. “You go on and try on that red dress. I’ll go look for shoes. Sandals or pumps?”
.
“Does it make me look fat?” Tami twirled in front of the triple mirrors, looking over her shoulder at the back of the dress.
“Fat? You could never look fat.” Eric glanced at his watch. Every other day this week, he had been coaching Smash after the team had finished, watched game tapes all evening and dealt with the other demands of being the athletic director. It figured that his one day when he had nothing pressing to do, Tami insisted that he go help her pick out a dress for Jason Street’s wedding. “That one looks great on you. Really.”
Tami pursed her lips at her reflection. “I don’t know. The skirt is kind of big.” She tossed a glance at the hanging rack with her other five selections. “Let me just try on the red one again.”
Eric widened his eyes in panic. That would entail another trip out to the shoe department to find the right shoes to go with that particular shade of red. “No!” At her startled look, he held up his hands. “I mean…why do that when what you’re wearing is the perfect dress?” He cocked his head and made a motion with his hands. “It’s so nice and…and puffy…yeah, that’s it. It’s puffy.” He grinned for real this time, sure that he’d hit on the right adjective.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Puffy? Is that just another word for fat?”
Fear drenched him like a cold shower. “Haha! I didn’t mean puffy. I meant, it’s just, you know, just fluffy. Around the waist there.” He pointed at the large satin bow in the rear of the dress. “And that bow. It’s a great bow, hon.”
“You think so?” Tami’s eyes opened wider as hope filled them.
His confidence soared. He could make the save after all. “Oh yeah. It just draws the eye right away from all the polka dots.” Maybe he’d get back to the house and be able to catch the last half of the Cowboy’s game. He could almost taste the beer and pretzels.
“What’s wrong with the polka dots?” She stepped towards him and prodded him with her index finger. “Don’t you like polka dots? I think they’re cute.”
Eric swallowed, not sure if he was treading on dangerous ground. Was she serious? He stepped back and rubbed his hand over the spot she had stabbed. “Cute? Yes! They are adorable. My mom has a polka dot dress. It’s my favorite.”
Tami glared at him and spun, holding her hair up off her neck. “Unzip me.” Her voice reminded Eric of Sigourney Weaver’s in Ghostbusters. He half expected her to inquire if he was the keymaster.
“What? Aren’t you going to get this one?” He mourned the beer and pretzels. Eric wished he could call a time out and regroup. It was fourth and goal. He had to go for it. “Come on, babe. It’s a great dress. Nobody’s gonna be looking at the bow or the polka dots anyway. The way the top dips down...” He wiggled his eyebrows and then winked at her image in the mirror.
Tami’s mouth dropped open and she slapped a hand across her chest. “Are you implying it’s indecent?”
Without a word, Eric slid the zipper down. He knew when it was time to punt. “You go on and try on that red dress. I’ll go look for shoes. Sandals or pumps?”
.