「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(174) Montblanc

Laughlin City, 23rd December 1993

Lynn's POV

"It's your last day. Is there anything in particular you want to do?" I asked Jean as we ended our simple breakfast and she pondered hard while I headed into the kitchen to do the dishes.

"Scott did say to buy him chocolates," Jean finally recalled as she strutted in, helping to dry the bowls and replaced them to the cabinets beneath the stove.

"And who are you to him?" I teased, crossing my arms and narrowing my eyes in scrutiny, noting that the two still had not actually confessed their feelings for each other, despite my encouragements, with their friendship stagnating at an intimate yet ambiguous state. 

"Lynn! Stop it!" Jean whined, bashfully stomping out of the room, blushing.

"I'll stop if you tell me," I responded jokingly, projecting my voice out the doorway as I re-strapped my wheelchair gloves onto my dried hands but Jean readily ignored me.

"Let's go to the mall!" Jean shouted, blatantly avoiding the subject, and expectedly hurled my coat in my direction as I came through the hall, a usual routine she managed every time we had to go out.

Layering on our necessary winter wear, we made our way down the familiar streets to the lone shopping arcade in the vicinity. While Jean was eager to hunt down sweet treats for her clearly identified crush, I made up an excuse to deviate from her path.

Naturally humming along to the classical carols resonating in the background ironically distracted me from the torture the very same songs brutally inflicted to my heart, each and every one of them evoking a special memory linked to every unique Christmas ever spent with him.

Attempting to filter out the images of snowball fights with the children in the gardens, ice-skating in our villa with him and the endless parties she singlehandedly organized that without exception induced a tremendous pang internally, I cruised not so aimlessly in the festively decorated arena.

"Good morning, miss. May I help you?" A friendly female voice sounded, breaking my concentration from my mental task.

I blinked several times at the well-groomed young lady dressed smartly in a dark grey skirt suit and an elegant silk neck scarf, not realizing how long I had remained mindlessly muted just scrutinizing her prim uniform and the icon on the corner of her name tag to figure that I had unknowingly wandered into Montblanc, unintentionally triggering a panicky face on the Caucasian attendant, Rose.

"Miss, are you alright?" Rose probed anxiously, tapping lightly on my shoulder.

"Fine, thank you," I muttered with a short chuckle and a relieved smile immediately eased back onto the sales assistant's face.

"Can I see your latest collection?" I requested politely and Rose cordially escorted me towards a nearby glass display.

Taking her seat behind the transparent counter, Rose unlocked the encasing and retrieved the selection of exquisite writing instruments from within. Browsing through the series of ordinary fountain pens atop the beige velvet tray, it was obvious nothing had caught my eye and Rose surely noticed even when she was focused on giving me a brief introduction of the luxurious stationeries launched by their company this season.

"Would you be keen to take a look at our Writers' Edition? It's Agatha Christie this year," Rose promptly offered and my eyes lit up at the mention of probably the world's greatest crime novelist.

"Yes, please," I eagerly replied, nodding furiously at her.

"I'll be right back," Rose gladly informed, locking up the expensive merchandises.