It quickly started to close, and I grabbed the handle. My shoulder jerked in the direction of the door. It was a lot heavier than I anticipated. After I lugged it open and squeezed inside the store, I jogged to catch up to Fisher who was already halfway toward the back of the store.

“What’s your shoe size?” he asked.

“Nine.”

“Really?” He glanced back at me. “Big feet.”

My nose wrinkled. “Nine isn’t that big.”

“For a woman it is.”

“Pfft …” I shook my head.

“Sit.” He nodded toward a bench.

“I’m not a dog.” I held my own to prove … well … that I wasn’t a dog.

“You’re right. A dog would be better behaved.”

“Jerk.” I plopped onto the bench while Fisher tracked down an employee.

A few minutes later, he returned with three boxes. “Take off your shoes.”

I slipped out of my tennis shoes.

“Reese …” He stared at my feet. “Where are your socks?”

“My shoes have wool inserts. They don’t require socks.”

He grumbled. That meant he was mad at me.

“Well, they don’t.” I shrugged.

Dropping the three boxes onto the bench next to me, he stomped his work boots in the direction of a rack of socks. After quickly picking a pair, he ripped the tag off them and handed them to me. “Put these socks on.” His no-nonsense attitude prevented me from saying or doing anything but exactly what he asked me to do.

“Here.” He retrieved a boot from the first box and loosened the laces before handing it to me.

I shoved my foot into it, but before I could tie it, Fisher hunched in front of me and tied the laces with fast and furious hands. “Walk.”

Standing on command like a good dog, I walked, really hobbled because I only had on one boot. Stopping at a floor mirror, I inspected it.

“Well?” he said.

“They’re ugly.”

Another grumble. At least, I thought it was a grumble. Maybe it was a growl. “You know what else is ugly? Toes with nails poked through them or toes crushed by heavy objects. Let me reframe my question. How do they fit?”

“They? You mean it? Trying on one boot tells me nothing except that it’s ugly … and hard to walk in one boot.”

“Great. Glad you like them. Here. Put on the other boot, and let’s get you a hard hat.”

I slipped on the other boot and tied it much slower than Fisher did. Then I followed him to another part of the store as he carried the boot box holding my tennis shoes and the tag to my socks.

“Let’s see how this fits.” He put a hard hat on my head.

“It’s loose.”

He removed it and tightened the inside strap.

“How about now?”

I nodded. “Better.”

“Let’s go.”

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, scurrying to catch up to him.