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PROLOGUE
Dorothy was afifty-five-year-old short, rail-thin White woman with long, straight silver hair that hit right below her ass. She was known for those tresses of hers, which hung down like a shimmery cape. She said the premature gray ran in the family. A quiet woman, she wore a perennial subtle smile that complimented her friendly dark brown eyes. Her only adornment, devoid as she was of makeup or jewelry. Her beautifully jeweled soul was all the brightness she needed.
Still in her green work smock, Dorothy approached the grocery line, her buggy loaded with her typical weekly fare: fourteen cans of cat food, a bag of dry cat food, cat litter, a gallon of milk, a carton of orange juice, a few cans of sardines and tuna, a box of crackers, a loaf of white bread, a package of off-brand luncheon meat, a head of lettuce, one tomato, a bottle of ranch dressing, a twelve-pack of Cola, two boxes of Frosted Flakes cereal, a bag of frozen French fries, hot dogs and buns, two bags of Lays potato chips, a box of butter sticks, a sack of seedless green grapes, a six-pack of microwave popcorn, a carton of large eggs, a canister of coffee, and a package of shortbread cookies. Yup. Iris had the items memorized now. The woman rarely deviated from these customary rations. Iris secured her hair in a knot and pinned it up. Kenny Rogers’, ‘The Gambler’ entertained her while she worked.
“How you doin’ tonight, Ms. Dorothy?” Iris began to ring up the articles.
“Oh, I’m all right, I suppose.” The frail woman grunted and shrugged her shoulders. “Can I get a carton of those Winston’s, please?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Iris retrieved them, then rang them up.
“They cut back my shift again,” Dorothy explained. She worked second shift at a gas station.
“Again? That ain’t right. Is it temporary?”
“I sure hope so.”
“Well, I hope it is, too, and you can get back to fulltime. Being stressed over money is no fun. Folks got bills to pay.”
“Don’t I know it.” Dorothy handed her a host of coupons, some of which unfortunately were expired. Just then, the tall, handsome stranger came up behind the customer, but kept his distance as he waited to be rung up, too. Iris turned around to see if another line was open, and it was.
“Sir, line seven is open. You don’t have to wait.” She pointed down the way.
“Thank you so much, ma’am, for that information.” He did a slight bow of his head, as if he were tipping an imaginary hat. He was such a nice-looking man with his cropped shiny black hair and gleaming eyes, it made her pause and do a double take. Well groomed, smelling so damn good. His cologne filled the air—not overpowering, but distinct. “I’m fine right here.”
Iris found it curious that he wasn’t in a hurry to get through checkout faster, but she offered him a friendly nod and continued on with Dorothy all the same.
“Well, I hope things get sorted for you, Dorothy.” Iris bagged the last items then turned back towards her register. “All right, after applying the valid coupons, your total is $39.72.”
Dorothy opened her pocketbook and started to pull out singles, five-dollar bills, and change. The music kept playing, Kenny talking about gambling and such, almost mocking the situation as it became painfully obvious that Dorothy was coming up short. The lady stared at the bagged items.
“I ’spose I can put the grapes and chips back. How much would that save me?” The woman looked so hopeful as Iris went through the process of removing items from the total. She still didn’t have enough.
“Ms. Dorothy, how much do you have, honey?”
The woman started counting all over again. Much to her surprise, the handsome stranger didn’t once move a muscle in impatience or anger. He didn’t grunt, clear his throat in annoyance, or make to move on to another line. In fact, all he did was tap his boot to the song as he looked down at his phone.
“Looks like I’m about eight and some change short. Take the cigarettes off. I got a few left to last me a day or two if I’m careful.”
“I got you.” Iris went for her purse.
“Oh, no, baby. I can’t let you do that, Iris.”
“Ms. Dorothy, it’s all right. God blesses those who bless others.”
When she pulled out a ten-dollar bill from her wallet, the stranger spoke up.
“’Scuse me, ma’am,” he said to Dorothy, as he reached around her. “Please take your groceries, the grapes ’nd chips, too, and go on about your evening.” The man motioned for Iris to ring the two items again, then handed Iris his credit card. He returned his attention to his phone, clearly oblivious to Iris’ stare when she couldn’t believe what he’d just done.
“Sir, thank you so much,” Dorothy stated, her voice trembling. “Iris here is so sweet, and I darn sure didn’t want to take a dime from her. I’ve never had this happen before… Thought my coupons would cover it.”
“You don’t have to explain nothing to me. Just let me take care of this, and you hold onto your money. I’m payin’ the entire amount.”
“I don’t know you, young man, but I don’t want to take a dime from you, either so please keep your money and I’ll just go without for a day or two. It’s no problem. Iris, hand this gentleman his card back, please.”
Iris started to do as the woman bid, but his eyes met hers this time, and he shook his head.
“Nonsense. I insist.” He was looking right at her as he spoke, not at Dorothy.
