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I toss an extra glance Elliott’s way and discover he’s talking to a woman at the door.
“Uh, actually. I need to get something from my car. The, uh, rest of my list. Yeah. See you around?”
“Okay, see you around,” he says and heads inside.
When Sawyer passes through the automatic doors, he and Elliott nod at one another. I walk hurriedly toward a pillar near where Elliott is standing and crouch behind it. I peer over my shoulder at him. He doesn’t see me, which is good because, I admit, I am absolutely terrible at being inconspicuous. I strain to listen when my neighbor Mr. Rosenfeld’s cart creeks by at an alarmingly slow rate.
“Miss Julia? Is that you?”
I scrunch up my face and bury my head in my shoulders. I spastically wave him on. He shakes his head, but continues on, muttering ‘she’s looney’ and something along the lines of ‘probably forgot her pill’.
I turn my ear toward Elliott. He’s been talking to the young woman for some time now and I’m curious as to why. I’ve never seen her around before and jealousy creeps up my neck and into my face, infecting my thoughts. I check myself, forcing myself to calm down.
“.......and I’m not sure what I need to do because he just left us,” the woman says.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. That breaks my heart. How old is your son?” Elliott asks, reaching for her baby’s face and dragging a finger down its cheek. The baby giggles through a toothless grin, enamored of Elliott.
The woman adjusts the baby more securely on her hip.
“He’s six months.”
“What’s his name?”
“Samuel.”
“No way! That’s my grandfather’s name. I knew there was something about the little guy I liked.”
The woman laughs but loses the happiness just as quickly as it came.
“Well,” Elliott continues, “I believe I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve for Samuel here. How about we take a trip down the baby aisle together?”
“Oh thank you.....”
“Elliott.”
“.....Elliott. Thank you. I am so embarrassed. I’ve never had to do anything like this before but I’m desperate. It’s either this or head to the nearest soup kitchen but I don’t have a car and I don’t want to expose Samuel to the elements.”
“I understand...."
“Karen.”
“....Only a great mom would brave asking a stranger for help. I’d be honored to help you guys out. Truly, it would make my day.”
Both Elliott and Karen, with Samuel in tow, headed toward the baby aisle. I decide that this will be the extent of my eavesdropping, that I won’t risk the possibility of further humiliation. I am firm in my decision. Maybe another second wouldn't hurt.
I crept one aisle over and listened to their progress. A little old lady rushed past me in her cart, eyeing me strangely. I know, I’m insane grandma.
“So, what does Samuel like to eat Karen?”
“Oatmeal. He loves banana oatmeal.”
I hear box after box toss into a cart. Karen laughs.
“He doesn’t need that much,” she says.
“ I’m sure he doesn’t but I just want to make sure. Alright, how about these? I remember when my little sister was about Samuel’s age she couldn’t get enough of these.”
“Okay,” Karen says, her voice teetering on a sob.
