The small diner was a bizarre mix of intimate booths, neon lighting and mirrors designed to catch the heads and shoulders of the inhabitants. Sally sat in one of the booths sipping a coffee and apparently making notes or quick sketches in a small notebook. To any casual observer, she was a middle aged, slightly frumpy woman of modest means. She wore a long print dress, covered matronly with a knitted cardigan that would seem out of place outside of the diner on such a hot day. Sunlight burst through the massive display window at the front of the diner, casting the other diners in sharp relief. Sally's left hand was draped lightly in her lap as she concentrated intently on her book.
What none of the diners realized, or could see, was her note taking and sketches were solely focused on the young, fresh-faced couple sitting across from her and one booth down, she had a good view of them, they would have to lean over or turn to see her. In fact, bar her torso and head, she was completely invisible in the shadows to even the older woman serving behind the counter. She wrote copiously about the blonde, blue-eyed man, aged, roughly early 20s, tall, athletically built, with a quick smile and perfect white teeth. His companion was a shorter, similarly aged mousey haired, dark woman in a short dress. She wrote about the couple's appearance, both visible and imagined. Their body types, skin types, the man's bulge, the woman's breasts, and ass. She sketched fantastical doddles of the pair engaged in all sorts of lewd sexual acts, paying particular attention to the graphic portrayals of the man's long, slender penis in the woman's throat and ass. All the while, the thumb of her hand held loosely in her lap rubbed her clitoris through the thin fabric of her dress. She wasn't trying to bring about a climax. She was merely maintaining a heightened level of sexual agitation that added to the frisson of what she was doing.
Later, Sally sat in her car in an alley behind a dingy block of apartments and eventually spotted the young woman slip out of her back door and deposit a sheaf of papers in her trash can out the back. When the girl had retreated inside, Sally looked both ways, and seeing it was clear, sidled over to the trash and retrieved the papers. Once she was sure she hadn't been spotted, she sat in the car and leafed through what turned out to be official correspondence. The young couple, Topanga and Miles, were only recent tenants of the small apartment. In the few months they had lived there, they had run up considerable bills which they seemed prepared to ignore. The management company for the building were threatening eviction, their utility companies were similarly behind in payments, and a local bank was threatening legal action against them both, together and individually, for repayment of a very modest loan. From their standpoint, they were in deep shit. From Sally's, they were perfect.
Topanga totted a running total in her head as she added items frugally to her basket in the large supermarket. She reached for an expensive import beer, then changed her mind and selected a cheap local variety. Boxed mac and cheese followed, a couple of frozen pizzas and a box of own brand toothpaste. The supermarket was already a discount one, what she was buying were their super cheap items. At the deli, she searched for the marked-down, almost out of date cuts. All the while, she was oblivious to the taller, larger, older woman paying close attention to what was on each shelf always a few paces behind her, like a store detective.
Topanga watched the young man run up her groceries. To be more correct, she watched the total flying up on the cash machine, calculating the drop off point. As they approached it, she removed a box of Tide off the belt and whispered almost to herself.
"Don't think I need this."
Sally made her move.
As Topanga's last few items were rung up, Sally lined her expensive ones up on the belt behind. She carefully retrieved the discarded Tide and placed it back on the belt.
"Oh, I don't need that." Sally looked flustered.
"Darling." Sally beamed her best momsy smile. "You never can have enough. Listen, Amazing news! I just had a huge stroke of luck and want to pay it forward a bit so as I don't incur any of that nasty karma the Buddhists are always talking about."
Topanga looked bewildered and worried about her mounting grocery bill and the lack of bills in her purse.
"It would be a massive favor to me, personally, if you would let me pay it forward a small bit by allowing me to cover your purchases today."
"What?" Topanga's bewilderment levels deepened.
"I would like to pay for your groceries, dear." Sally explained. "It would be doing me a considerable favor."
"But why would you do that?" Topanga's forehead creased in perplexed near annoyance.
"I don't need charity."
"Of course you don't darling. And it's not charity. Not the way you think, at least. In fact, more like the opposite. I believe deeply that when some good comes your way, you should balance up the divine ledger somewhat. Pass a little of the good fortune on."
"But that's not necessary." Topanga started.
"Not necessary for you, my dear, but essential for me. I've recently had a large stroke of good fortune and need to do something to balance it. You really would be doing me a biggie."
Sally addressed the young man as he finished ringing up Topanga's groceries. It was an order not a request.
"Just keep running them up, son. Include my few items here and I'll pay for the lot."
"But." Topanga tried to intervene.
"But me not buts, little darling. It's my pleasure. And like I say, you'll be doing me a big favor. Now, I don't want to hear any more about it."
Caught between the gaze of the young man and Sally's broad beam, Topanga relented and uneasily bagged her items.
She waited while Sally handed over a fistful of notes.
"I can't thank you enough." Topanga said and they walked side by side towards the exit, brown bags in hand.
"Pish." Sally said, with an infectious smile. "I'm only glad to be able to do it. Thank you for accepting my butting into your day."
Topanga lapsed into silence, unsure how to react to this kindly, odd woman and her generous gift. She smiled to herself as a brief regret for picking the cheap beer crossed her mind.
Outside, Sally made to walk away, and then stopped.
"By any chance, can I offer you a ride anywhere? I find myself with a gap in my day and am looking for ways to fill it. Oh, but you probably have a car?"
"Em, no, actually. My boyfriend has the car today."
"Perfect! Then let me drop you and your groceries to your door."
Topanga followed Sally to the expensive looking Mercedes parked nearby.
"Is this yours?"
"This is kismet."
"Kismet?"
"Kismet. It's what I call my new car. Oh, if you could only have seen me a few weeks ago. Penniless, about to be evicted, car in the shop with no money to pay for it. Then, I met someone who changed my life completely."
"You met someone?'
"Yes. Hop in and I'll tell you all about it."
