"Here's a five."
Under dropped brows, my focus followed the grey and green bill as it fluttered across the front seat. "What?" I queried, picking up the money. "How do you expect me to get everything on this list with five bucks?"
"Figure it out," Matt snorted. "That's all I got."
I crossed my arms and sighed. I knew what that meant; I was going to dig into my purse and make up the difference. I got out of the car and started to make my way toward the little grocery store.
"And hurry up!" Matt yelled after me. "We'll be late for the game."
I rolled my eye.
Why are you even going to this party?
I asked myself.
Anytime you go anywhere with him, it's just a disaster. Why do you even put up with Matt?
I shivered. I knew the answer to that question. Even so, I kept trying to think of some other answer as I filled my cart with the items from the list.
My mind was still preoccupied with the issue as I reached the checkout. Absently unloading the basket, my vision strayed across the lower pant legs of the person in line behind me. As if hypnotized, I followed the garment upward, onto a trim torso covered by a simple pullover. Upward my eye drifted, onto the man's face. My breathing missed a heartbeat as my gaze met his.
Through habit, I started to look away, but something about him held my focus.
What eyes
, I mused through a gasp.
And those curls! Why do guys always get hair like that?
I wondered how limp my own locks must look from the other side of his baby-blues. The image my mind conjured was hardly flattering.
You idiot
, I scolded myself.
He's not looking at your hair anyway.
But at least he's not looking the other way, like most do. I swallowed, seeking some words, any words. My focus fell again, onto the package of plastic forks in his hand. With a smile, my view bounced upward. His eyes were still on me, his countenance ever pleasant.
"Is that all you have?" I inquired
The man nodded. "Yes."
That accent!
I marveled. It was like his very voice could melt my heart, as if his eyes had not already accomplished the feat. A shiver ran the length of my form. "Why don't you go ahead of me?" I suggested.
What the hell are you doing? Now he'll be gone even sooner!
He issued an unaffected smile and a slight tilt of his head. "Why that would be kind of you, ma'am."
Ma'am?
The word seemed to hang in the air, or at least in my mind.
I'm not even thirty! I can't be a ma'am yet!
In spite of my internal tumult, I responded with a brisk nod as I stepped aside. "Please do."
"Thank you." He shifted his body sideways to squeeze past. "I am in a bit of a pinch for time."
I inhaled as our forms slid against one another. For an instant, I closed my eye and tried to capture the moment, but it was gone in the span of a breath. Not even daring to look up, I resumed unloading my cart as soon as he had passed. I caught myself frowning as the man made pleasant small talk with the cashier. Then I caught myself wondering why I was frowning.
"Thank you again."
My neck trembled as I turned. I tongued my lips once before replying, "It was entirely my pleasure."
"Oh, I beg to differ," he contended. "I had the pleasure of meeting you. I do hope you have a pleasant day."
I heard a mild snort leave my nostrils as I considered the likelihood of that. Still, I forced a grin in return. "I will."
"I am glad to hear it," he replied before turning and strolling toward the door. My gaze followed him until he was well into the parking lot.
"Twenty-two eighty-five, Miss."
I snapped from my stupor and turned to the cashier. The smirk on her face left little doubt in my mind she had watched me stare longingly at a man she knew to be well out of my league. I could almost feel my cheeks heat as the blood rushed to them. My hands found my purse as I fumbled to find the money.
"What took you so long?" Matt snapped as I returned to the car.
Calm
. I counseled myself.
Pissing him off before the party can't help
. I put the two bags on the seat between us. "There was a line."
Matt's eyes wandered from the groceries to my waist. "You could lose some weight."
My brows and jaws fell. "I am not fat."
Matt nodded to the window beyond me. "You don't look like those girls."
I turned to look at pair of young girls walking to their car. A scowl had seized my face by the time I spun it back to Matt. "They're still in high school. Or just out."
"Is that any reason to let yourself go? I figured with your ten year reunion coming up, you might want to shape up a bit."
Not like I'll be going to any reunion!
My nose twitched as I tried to keep my ire in check. "I did not let myself go! A million dollars of plastic surgery and I still wouldn't look like those girls; and you know it."
Matt shrugged. "Have it your way. Just trying to help." He reached for the ignition.
My eyelid closed as a pathetic buzzing emerged from beneath the vehicle's hood.
What else can go wrong?
I heard a jingle and felt a pressure in my lap. Looking down I saw the car keys lying on my pants.
"Get the cables out of the trunk," Matt said. He reached for the hood cable and gave a tug. "I'm gonna go over to that video store."
"What?" I stammered.
"Take them cables outta the trunk and go stand by the hood," he instructed. "You ain't so bad some guy won't stop and help you so long as I ain't around."
At least Matt was right about that. Within five minutes of standing by the open hood and trying to look pathetic, an older gentleman stopped and helped me get the car started. I listened politely as he tried his best to explain all the maintenance he thought the vehicle needed. He insisted on staying another several minutes to make sure the car didn't die. Then I had to insist he didn't need to follow me home.
Thus it was fifteen minutes before I pulled up in front of the video store and honked. Matt did not emerge. Not wanting to make a scene by sounding the horn again and being unwilling to leave the car idling with the keys in it, I chose to simply wait.
When Matt finally did exit the store some minutes later, he bore a wide grin and two bags.
I pointed to the merchandise as he deposited it onto the floorboard. "What are those?"
"Movies. What else would they have in a video store?"
"And how can we afford them?"
"There was a sale. They had a two-for-one."
"No," I said. "How'd you pay for them? I thought that five was all you had."
"Oh," Matt stammered. "I found a twenty I done forgot about."
"Yeah," I snorted. "Handy, that. And how many'd you get?"
"Dozen."
"Anything I might like?"
Matt shrugged. "Skin flicks."
"Don't we have enough of those?" I groaned. "I mean, they're all the same anyway."
"You know I like to see some new girls now and then."
My eyelid fell in a futile attempt to forestall the tears. I understood the implication; my appearance wasn't sufficient to generate excitement. He had to pretend I was someone else. My fingers found the door handle and pulled. I threw the door wide, intending to swing my legs out after it.
"No," Matt grunted. "You can drive." He reached into the bag and retrieved one of his movies. "I think I'll check a few of these out."
Lips pursed, I closed the door and reached for the shifter. At least there was one blessing to Matt ogling the girls on the video cases; I didn't have to talk to him.
We got to the party late; the big game was already underway. That was fine with me. I didn't mind missing the socializing phase of the gathering. Not that the guests bothered me. I'd seen most of them before. Or more important, most of them had seen me before.
I took the goods I had purchased to the kitchen counter and fit them in where I could. As I put some disposable bowls near the paper plates, my vision strayed across a box of plastic forks. My thoughts wandered back to the man in the supermarket. I smiled, but only as long as it took me to realize the last time I had smiled was when he had looked at me.
By the time I returned to the main room and the big screen television, Matt was engrossed in the contest. I made my way to the empty chair to his right and kept my eye on the screen.
The entire state was abuzz about the big game; had been for the past several days. I still wasn't sure of the significance of the affair and didn't want to expose my ignorance by asking, so I more or less just sat, watched, and tried to figure out what made baseball less boring than golf.
The contest progressed the regulation number of innings amid cheers, groans, and comments from two dozen or so persons gathered around the large television. I could feel the intensity of the onlookers build as the game went into extra time, or whatever it's called for baseball. By then I had at least determined whom I was meant to cheer for.
At one point thereafter, the opposing team, the bad guys as I had come to think of them, got their first runner to second base. This caused some concern amongst the crowd, and no shortage of opinions as to how to handle the crisis. Amidst a collectively contained breath, the ball left the bat of the next hitter and sailed skyward. I didn't know what was happening, but gathered from the simultaneous sigh issued by the audience that it was something good.
