Angie loaded me down with three pairs of pants, half a dozen shirts. “Go try these on,” she ordered.

“Honestly,” I said. “I think I’ll just get the shirts. I don’t have to try them on. They’ll be fine. But the pants, it’s a lot of trouble.”

Angie looked at me sternly.

I was directed into a changing room. I slipped off my shoes, pulled off my pants. I pulled on a pair of navy blue khakis first, and one of the checked shirts Angie had handed me. I tucked in the shirt, slipped my shoes back on, and grabbed the wallet from my pants. This has long been a fear of mine, that my wallet will be stolen while trying on new clothes.

When I stepped back into the main store, Angie was there with Gary.

“Oh my God,” she said. “You look terrific.”

“I want to take another look at some shirts up at the front,” I said.

“Oh sure!” Angie said and then, glancing at Gary, said to me, “I’ll be right here.” She and Gary were chatting, and it didn’t sound like the subject was fashion. Didn’t she already have a boyfriend?

I walked to the front, not to look at shirts, but to scan the mall. There were dozens of people walking past, but at a glance, I didn’t see anyone who resembled Trevor.

I returned to the back of the store, told Angie I hadn’t seen anything else I cared for. But by the time we got to the counter, I had five shirts, three pairs of slacks, a new belt, and five pairs of socks.

While Gary was removing all the tags and scanning the items, I said to Angie, “So, what have you been doing tonight? Did you come straight to the mall?”

“No,” she said. “I met a friend for coffee first.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, trying not to act too interested. “Anyone I know?”

“No.”

“A good friend, someone from school?”

“Just a friend,” she said. She spotted a rack of boxers. “You know what, you should get some of those, too.”

“I’m not sure it’s appropriate for my daughter to be buying me boxers. That has to cross a line somewhere.”

“If I have to see you walking around the house in them, I should have the right to pick them. Here,” she said, grabbing three pair and tossing them onto the counter just before Gary rang up the sale.

“Okay,” said Gary. “That comes to $576.42.”

“What?” I said.

Gary repeated the amount for me. “Will that be on your Visa, sir?”

I handed over my plastic and Gary ran it through. As I walked out of the store, loaded down with three bags, Angie said, “That’s the most fun I’ve had shopping in months.”

I wasn’t sure I was cut out for this whole surveillance thing. I didn’t think I could afford it.