Just Breathe

Jake and Amanda bounced into the new shopping mall in their neighbourhood. They were both still giddy from their honeymoon, and Amanda had said that she wanted to buy a few items for their new townhome.

Amanda being Amanda, promised to only go into two stores. And well, Jake being Jake, followed along beside her. His fingers laced with hers. He was beaming as he looked at her. He noticed how excited his new bride got as she darted from one store to the next. Popping in excitedly, chatting with one salesperson and then flitting into another store gently fingering the clothing. They both bounced into that new home store that Amanda had heard about. She wanted to see if she could get some bedding and dishtowels and a few other items that would make their house a home. Amanda kissed Jake on the cheek, and before he could grab her hand to pull her back to him, she ran off in search of a shower curtain. Or so Jake thought he heard her mumble.

Jake looked around the large store and shook his head. He didn’t know what to do with himself. At first, he stood there awkward in his aloneness. Jake didn't like shopping, but he knew how this simple task always filled Amanda with joy, so he was happy to tag along. Jake looked left, then right and then he spotted them. A group of men sitting in what looked like a waiting room off to the side. Odd, Jake thought. A waiting room in a department store?

Jake approached the comfortable-looking room and looked at the four men sitting there. To his right was an older man, wearing a pair of freshly polished black shoes. The kind his grandfather wore to church on Sundays. The man’s spectacles were halfway down his nose, and he was reading an actual newspaper.

About a chair length away sat another man. Interesting, Jake thought. Velcro runners. Mr. Velcro runners was on his phone quietly chatting. He looked as though he was attempting to close a big business deal. He leaned forward and took some notes. Then he leaned back, closed his eyes and shook his head, apparently exasperated.

Across from Mr. Velcro sat the casual runner guy. Casual runners sat back, earphones dangling from his ears. He looked and acted like he didn't have a care in the world. He was scrolling on his phone and gave an occasional smile at what Jake imagined was a funny post or video. He seemed content to be sitting in this space, simply waiting.

However, beside him, and to Jake’s left, was the most nervous man Jake had ever seen. Feet together, sitting straight up like a bird perched on a branch about to break, was guy number four. He kept looking over his shoulder in dreadful anticipation.

Jake, hands in his pockets, looked around the room once more. Then the elderly man adjusted his glasses on his face and looked at Jake.

“Well, son, it seems as though you have now become a part of our club.”

“Pardon me,” Jake responded.

“Oh, son.” the older man chuckled. “My name’s Carl. This here is Max, that’s Rhys and over there looking like he’s about to shit himself is Kevin. His wife always buys way too much for her own good. You see, all of us sit every Sunday as our wives or partners in Rhys’ case come in here looking for stuff to fill our homes. Sheets, towels, or shower curtains. You would think we all had many houses around the world. But nope, we all only have one. But every week, there is something new to purchase.”

“You guys do this every week?” Jake asked, eyebrows raised.

Each man looked at Jake and nodded.

“Yep.” Said Carl, “Every Sunday. It’s almost like our little ritual.”

“But how much can one house need?”

Each man laughed, looked at Jake and shook their heads.

“Son, you’re newly married, aren’t you? It’s not so much about the buying. As my Darlene says, it’s about the experience. I've honestly never seen the experience. All I know is that every Sunday for the past twenty-five years, the same ritual, but a different store. Although this here store has been the best. They must have known that all us men hated just standing around. So they built us our own room.”

Carl pointed to the sign located at the entrance to the room itself, and there carved into a piece of driftwood, were two words Just Breathe.

Carl looked away from Jake, slid his glasses back down his nose, ruffled his paper in an attempt to straighten it out before he went back to reading and said, “Yep, just breathe, son. It may be a while.”