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Chapter Sixteen
Maggie is walking up and downthe aisles at Publix, hoping to see something that will twig her memory, remind her why she is here, what groceries she came in for. Damn it. Why didn’t she make a list?
She hates grocery shopping. Always has. Especially since Craig is no longer around to accompany her. “Really, Maggie,” he’d said when they first moved to Palm Beach Gardens. “You have to start doing these things on your own again.”
Had he been preparing her even then for his departure?
“Milk, yogurt, lettuce, tomatoes, raisin bread, Cap’n Crunch,” she says out loud, counting off the items in her cart, knowing she’s leaving out a bunch of essentials. “Toilet paper!” she exclaims loudly, attracting the attention of a nearby shopper.
“I believe the toilet paper is two aisles down,” the woman volunteers.
Maggie spends the next five minutes trying to decide which brand of toilet paper to buy. Charmin was always Craig’s favorite, so she chooses Cottonelle instead, then decides she’s being petty and returns the Cottonelle to the shelf, replacing it with a jumbo-size package of Charmin. “You’re overcompensating,” she mutters, moving on to an aisle stuffed with candies and cookies. “Much better,” she says, surveying the mind-boggling selection of sweets.
She’s tempted by the variety of M&M’s available, and even more intrigued by the many flavors of licorice and jujubes. “What the hell. I could use something sweet about now,” she decides. “Something sweet and gooey.” She reaches for a box of sticky toffee, opening the package on the spot and popping one of the butterscotch squares into her mouth. It gloms instantly onto one of her back teeth. “Damn it,” she says, trying to extricate it with her tongue, wondering if she’s going to have to resort to using her fingers, when it finally pops out. “Probably loosened a damn filling,” she grouses, mindful of another shopper’s stare.
Attention, shoppers.Crazy lady in aisle five.
Maggie completes another tour of the large store until she’s satisfied she has everything she needs, plus a lot of stuff she surely doesn’t. Still, the more she loads up on now, the fewer trips back here she’ll have to make later.
She approaches the busy checkout counters, angling in behind a woman whose groceries have already been bagged. Maggie recognizes the woman as one of her neighbors, Olivia Something-or-other, the one who’s married to the man she always sees staring out his front window.
This is the second time she’s run into one of her neighbors away from their block, she thinks, wondering at the coincidence.
It’s not a coincidence,she hears Craig admonish.It’s Saturday. This is the closest Publix to our house. Of course she shops here.
You’re being paranoid,he adds.
Screw you,Maggie thinks, pretending to study the racks of magazines beside the counter, hoping Olivia is too preoccupied with checking out to notice her.
“Excuse me, but I think there’s something wrong with this machine,” Olivia is saying to the checkout clerk.
“There is?”
“It keeps declining my card.”
The clerk shrugs. “It was working fine a minute ago. Do you have another card?”
Olivia shakes her head and looks helplessly around. “Sorry about this,” she says to Maggie. “Oh. I know you. Maggie, right?”
Maggie smiles. “Problems?”
“The machine won’t take my credit card.”
“Do you have a debit card?” the clerk asks, clearly hoping to speed things along. A line is starting to form behind Maggie.
“I do,” Olivia says, inserting it. “I don’t normally do the shopping…. Declined,” she says a moment later. “I told you, there’s something wrong with this machine.”
“How about cash?” the clerk suggests.
“Over two hundred dollars? Who carries that much cash around these days?”
“Let me take this other customer and see if her card works,” the clerk offers.
“It won’t,” Olivia insists, as the clerk rings in Maggie’s purchases. She watches as Maggie inserts her card, waiting for it to be declined, then steps back in dismay when the transaction goes through without a glitch. “I don’t understand. I’m nowhere near my limit and I should have more than enough cash in my account.”
“I’m sure there’s a legitimate explanation,” Maggie begins. “Probably some screw-up at the bank.”
“I’m so embarrassed.”
