There’s gotta be something here. Maybe this one?

Wait. I think this is the same kind of shampoo as the last one I bought.

“What do you think of this one?” I asked.

I flipped the cap so he could smell. Other than his nose scrunching, there was no reply.

“Yeah, I thought it smelled pretty strong too.”

I set the mint shampoo back on the shelf. Skimmed the names of the other “manly” soaps and shampoos. Sighed at the ridiculousness of some of them.

“Alright. New plan. Since the selection here is small and they all smell weird, why don’t we look through the women’s shampoo? There’s not really a difference other than branding anyway.”

He didn’t indicate being opposed to the idea, so I made my way to the women’s section. My preferred brand stood out with a sale sticker. I snagged the next to last bottle for the cart.

I skimmed the new labels. Looked back at James to see if he was looking too. He was hyper focused on a cart full of crying wains passing by the isle end instead. When their screeching had finally faded enough to be easily ignored, he looked toward the shelves.

Is there a way to make this easier? Maybe it’s more than the distractions that’s making this difficult. Maybe there are too many choices. He locks up when presented with the remote to choose a film. Maybe the issue is just that there’s an overabundance of choices and he’s overwhelmed.

Wow… I can’t believe I haven’t thought of this before now. There’s an abundance of choices for almost anything. He picks his dishes at home, but maybe that’s easier because he’s gotten used to the selection. It doesn’t change. And he only ever uses this one mug or glass for his drinks. I usually get the plates or bowls out for meals when I’m home, so he doesn’t have to choose.

“Hey.”

His head tilted down to catch my gaze.

“Are there too many choices?” I asked.

There’s that confusion I’m becoming so familiar with again.

A popping sound from the next isle caused him to flinch, back on high alert.

Alright. I can handle this. How do I handle this? How to…

“James.”

His gaze swung back to mine. He took a few measured breaths as the screeching wains came back within easy hearing range.

“I want to try something with you. Are you alright with that?”

I didn’t get an answer until the bell over the front door chimed taking the wain’s noise out with it. When it was quiet, wonderfully quiet, the tension in his shoulders eased. He gave me a nod.

I reached for two different bottles of clarifying shampoo. Flipped the tops.

“I think this kind will work best for your hair right now. I’m going to lift them one at a time for you and you rate the smell. One finger for awful, two fingers for alright, three fingers for good. I’ll set the alright and good bottles aside for you to rate against each other next. Sound simple enough?”

His posture shifted, a little tense but not like before. When he agreed, I held up the first bottle. His nose scrunched. One finger was held up. I set it back and held up the next. Ten bottles were narrowed to six. Those were narrowed down to three.

“Are you finished yet?” an irritated voice cut in.

James froze. His fingers tightened around the bottle I had just passed him, squeezing some of the soap out. I stepped around him to see who had snapped at us.

“We’ll move if you need something from this section,” I suggested politely.

The older woman scowled and jerked her cart forward as if to slam it into James’ legs. I rushed to step in front of him to stop the collision when she did it a second time.

“There’s no need to be rude. You just had to ask.”

“I need to get to the other end of the aisle and you’re blocking the path sniffing soap,” she replied snidely.

“There’s plenty of space to go around us.” I gestured at the other half of the isle. “If you need a shampoo, we can move.”

“Crazy kids tryna get high sniffing soap. Get! This is where people shop!”

The nerve of this melter! How would we even…? That’s just stupid.

“We are not trying to get high. We are narrowing down choices by comparing smells. If you don’t need a shampoo, please go around us.”

She jerked her cart closer this time. “Get!”

“Would you please stop? You’re going to hurt someone,” I pleaded. “You’re stressing my friend out.”

You’re stressing me out!

She grumbled under her breath. I sighed in relief as she backed up, presumedly to go around or leave the aisle the way she had come.

“That’s over thankfully-”

James suddenly hiked me up into the air. The grating crash of metal on metal rang out as he shoved the woman’s cart into the opposite aisle. She started spitting curses at us. Other shoppers crowded around to get a look at the commotion. An employee pushed his way through.

“Is there a problem here?”

“That crazy fella attacked me! All cause I called em out for tryna to get high in the store!” the ditz crowed with a raised fist.

James tightened his grip around my waist. The employee turned to address us with a raised brow.

“Let me down, James. Is alright.” He set me on my feet after glaring the woman into a fuming silence. “We were not trying to get high, and my friend here did not attack her.”

The employee gave James a skeptical look. “What happened then?”

“My friend and I were narrowing down choices for a shampoo to buy. She was rude to us and feigned slamming her cart into us before actually shoving it at me. James kept me from getting hurt.”

“Liar!” the woman shouted.

The employee sighed. “Alright, let me get my manager to check the security cameras. Please wait here.”

The issue was cleared up rather quickly. It was obvious from the footage that the woman had tried to hit us with her cart repeatedly. When asked about the bottle sniffing, I explained James was feeling overwhelmed and trying to reacclimate now that he was back from combat. The manager waved us off at that without a second thought.

Of the three remaining choices that smelled good, he picked the one with the lightest scent reminiscent of strawberries. I searched the bottles of bubble bath for my favorite. They were completely sold out.

I flipped the cap on a bottle that boasted twenty percent more on the label. The vanilla sugary smell was accurate to the name. I held it up for James.

“What do you think of this? They’re out of lavender.”

He sniffed it delicately. Then he took a deeper inhale, his eyes fluttering closed. I smiled at the four fingers held up.

“We’ve gone from good to cracker?”

He nodded. I laughed.

“I’m glad something went well with this shopping trip. This will be yours too.”

He shook his head. Pointed at me.

I shook my head back. “This is for you. I may use a little until they restock mine, but the bottle is yours.”

The checkout process was quiet. After loading the car, he took the bubble bath from its bag and held it out to me.

“You liked this one, right?”

He looked lost, glancing away and clutching the bottle. A finger began to tap the lid. He squeezed it. Thrust it toward me in the next moment.

“Why don’t you want it anymore?”

“Not… allowed,” he answered quietly.

I shook my head. “You are allowed. I bought it for you.”

Why are you trying to return this and not the shampoo? I bought both of them for you. What had you said before? The Asset… doesn’t have needs? Does that also apply to things he wants?

Wait a minute…

“Having you been putting your blanket in my room every day because you think it’s not actually yours?”

His gaze dropped immediately.

What if his hair is so greasy because- “You haven’t been using your shampoo at home?”

The outstretched arm began to tremble. His chin lowered to touch his chest, hiding unshed tears as his hair slid forward. The shaking became more prominent once it reached his shoulders.

“Oh, James! No- Jamie lad, I’m not angry. I’m just trying to understand. Is alright.”

I gently pushed the bottle back toward him instead of pulling him into a hug like I desperately wanted to. His grip became white knuckled as it made contact with his chest.

“Listen, lad. Are you listening?”

Very slowly he raised his head a fraction. I took it as my answer.

“The blanket, the shampoo, this bubble bath. Anything that I say is yours, is yours. The cake you baked yesterday is all yours and you can eat as much or as little of it as you want. This bubble bath? You only share it with me if you want to, yeah? Don’t feel obligated to share with me or give me back the things I’ve gotten you. They are all for you.”

He pulled in a shaky, shallow breath. Let it out slowly. Despite his efforts, a tear began to roll down his cheek and he hurried to wipe it away with his shoulder.

“All yours James,” I repeated gently.

He stepped back as I closed the back door. Held the bubble bath protectively to his chest as I opened his door for him.

“Would you like to go to the park? There shouldn’t be many people out. We could take a walk or just rest in the shade. What do you say?”

His anxious gaze seemed to stare right through me.

“We can go straight home. Would you like that better?”

His eyes slid shut as he laid his head back against the headrest. A minute ticked by. Then another as he hugged the bubble bath. At his nod, I shut his door. I slid into the driver’s seat.

“Not a problem. I think I’ve had enough of the outside world today anyway.”