A Mrs. Miracle Christmas - Debbie Macomber Page 0,28

sale to end all sales. Just look at this delightful outfit.” She held up a pink ruffled dress so small it could be sized only for a newborn. “Isn’t this the cutest dress you’ve ever seen?”

Despite his discomfort, Zach smiled. The dress resembled something Scarlett O’Hara might have worn in Gone with the Wind. He had to admit that it was the perfect outfit to melt a daddy’s heart.

“It’s adorable, isn’t it?” the clerk asked.

“But I…”

“The best part is the price tag,” the clerk said, showing it to Zach.

Zach didn’t have any choice but to glance at the label. It was only a few dollars. That couldn’t be right. Seeing how much he’d paid for Laurel’s dress, this was a mere pittance. Then again, it was for a baby, and what did he know about the cost of baby clothes?

“Who in their right mind could refuse a deal like this?” she asked.

“Yes, but as I started to say, my wife and I don’t have children.”

“Perhaps for a friend, then?” the woman suggested. “You’re young, and I’m sure you have family or friends starting families.”

Zach hesitated. Laurel had recently mentioned that one of her teacher friends was pregnant. He didn’t know if the baby’s sex had been determined, but he reasoned that there would likely be an opportunity down the road to give this dress away as a baby shower gift. Besides, it would be less painful for him to pick up something instead of Laurel having to.

The saleswoman appeared to be waiting for his answer.

“Yes, I suppose.” Zach was beginning to feel uneasy. He wasn’t sure how to extract himself from this persistent woman. He wondered if the Macy’s staff was paid on commission, because she was certainly determined to make the sale.

“At this price, it’s a steal, Mr. McCullough. I mean, really…this sale is something else. I’ve worked in this department for some time now, and I’ve never seen clothing discounted this much.”

“Yes, well…” Zach anxiously looked around for a means of escape and found none. Then he realized that she had used his name. How on earth did she know his last name?

“Would you look at this!” The saleswoman held up a tiny western outfit. It was a blue-jean jumper with a red-checkered shirt underneath, something Annie Oakley might have worn in a sharpshooting match.

Zach smiled awkwardly. He liked this one as much as the first, though he didn’t admit that out loud to the salesclerk. He feared he might be losing it. Then again, if an adoption did come through and they had a girl…

“How much is that one?” he found himself asking.

“It’s the same price as the first dress I showed you.”

“Nice,” he murmured.

“I’m sure you’ll want this one, too.”

Too? He hadn’t agreed to purchase the first dress. He had the feeling the only way to find his way out of this department was to buy the outfits and flee for his life. He looked around, surprised to find that he was the only shopper in the entire section. There’d been wall-to-wall people everywhere else in the busy store, but this department was all but deserted.

“Would you like me to wrap these items for you?”

Zach hesitated. If Laurel found out he’d spent money on baby clothes, there was no telling what she’d do. “Actually…uh…no, thank you.”

The woman beamed at him, as if he was a brilliant shopper. She led the way to the checkout counter, chatting away like they were long-lost friends. Every now and again she’d pause and point out something else he was sure to need.

Zach politely refused each item, but she didn’t appear to hear him. By the time they reached the register, the saleswoman had accumulated a small pile of clothes, all for a baby girl. She quickly started to ring up his purchase while he worked up his nerve to have her put everything back. Then she announced the total. He was surprised to hear that it was little more than what he’d pay for a lunch from his favorite food truck on the street below his office.

Before he completely grasped what had happened, he’d given her the cash and she handed him the beautiful red shopping bag.

“Will this be all for you this evening, Mr. McCullough? Oh, look—the escalator is working again. What great timing you seem to have.”

Again, the clerk appeared to know him. Zach couldn’t recall ever meeting this relentless sales clerk, but he must have, at some point, somewhere. He was too frustrated

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