The radio plays something unfamiliar as my hands tighten on the steering wheel, the weight of an entire year here settling like a stone in my stomach.
When I spot the store, I pull into the lot without thinking.I slam the door behind me and stride inside.The second I step inside, I breathe again as loud conversations fill my ears.The murmurs bring my first real smile since crossing the town line.
Here, at least, I can lose myself and let the noise drown out the silence.
Chapter 2
Brant
Istepintothestore without bothering with a basket or cart.I’m only here for a few things for tonight’s dinner at my sister’s.It’s been a long morning at work, and tomorrow isn’t looking any quieter.
Grabbing a big pre-made salad, I pick up some breadsticks too.We usually rotate, with one week at her house, the next at my parents’, and occasionally mine.I snag a lollipop for my niece on the way past the candy section, then head toward the dairy aisle.I ran out of creamer, and the stuff at work is awful.Bitter and burnt, like half the doctors actually enjoy suffering through black coffee.I can’t stand it.
When I spot the last two bottles of my favorite vanilla creamer, relief floods me.I reach for the closest one, but as my fingers close around it, the second bottle… which has been leaning against the first the whole time… loses its support.It wobbles, tips, and crashes to the floor.The cap pops off and creamer starts pooling across the tiles.
I stare at the mess, then at the remaining bottle in my hand, just as another hand clamps down on top of mine.
“Hey, I need that,” I say, heat rushing through me as I try to tug it free.
“It’s an emergency!”A woman with bright blue eyes tightens her grip, her other hand joining the fight.Her mouth twists into a stubborn line.
My temple throbs.“How could this possibly be an emergency?”I grit out, not letting go.
“I take my coffee 80/20 creamer to caffeine ratio, and without, I can’t drink the liquid smudge,” she explains, like that settles it, snatching the bottle from me.
I’m momentarily speechless when Dores, a worker I recognize from my usual visits, comes over with a mop and starts cleaning up the mess spreading across the floor.
Before I get a chance to say another word, the woman turns on her heel and heads for the checkout.
I’m not letting this go.I trail after her, trying to keep my eyes on the back of her head and not on her toned physique.She looks like she’s come from the gym.“I'm not following you,” I say when she glances over her shoulder, glaring.“I need to ask if there’s any more in the back.”
“Well, I’m not sharing,” she says, hugging the bottle closer like I might wrestle it from her hands.
“I didn’t ask you to,” I mutter.
The cashier, Mila, glances between us, clearly torn.Her eyes land on the bottle clutched to the other woman’s chest, then flick to me.
“Uh… can I help you two?”she asks carefully.
I straighten.“Yeah.Can you check if there’s any more vanilla creamer in the back?”
Mila nods quickly.“I’ll go check—”
Before she can move, the woman practically throws her items onto the counter with a loud clatter.“Actually, can you just ring me up first?I really need to get home,” she interjects, flashing a bright, fake smile.
I hold the other items tighter to my chest, grinding my teeth.“We all need to get home,” I say under my breath.
Mila hesitates, her hand hovering over the register.For a second, I think she might ignore her, but then she lets out a small sigh and starts scanning the woman’s things anyway.
My jaw tenses.She’s got more than just the creamer.There’s a basket full of other groceries, and now I’m stuck waiting while she gets the royal treatment.
Finally, she pays.Just when I think that’s the last I’ll see of her, she turns and tosses a chirpy, “Bye,” over her shoulder.
I grunt in response.
Mila disappears into the back and returns a minute later, holding a fresh bottle of my creamer.
“Here you are.”
