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I shrugged. “I don’t have Facebook, so I couldn’t say.”
She stopped to glance at me with studious eyes. “You’re not on the World Wide Web?”
I stifled a snort as I lifted one shoulder in another shrug. “Not really.”
“How do you talk to people then?”
“I call or text all the people I care to talk to,” I replied. “Although, to be honest with you, most of the people I want to keep in touch with live here anyway, so …”
“What about family?”
“Don’t have family.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “Everyone has family.”
“I don’t. My grandparents are dead, no aunts or uncles or cousins.”
Her scowl might’ve softened just a little as she asked, “What about your parents? Siblings?”
I pulled in a deep breath before replying, “I never knew my father, I’m better off not knowing my mom, and I’m an only child.”
“Hmm.” She looked away, studying her bony fingers clutching the handle of the cart. “Everyone deserves family.”
I nodded. “I agree. But they weren’t a part of the plan for me, I guess.”
She huffed another contemplative sound as she nodded. Then, she stared right into my eyes and asked, “Do you like banana bread?”
The unexpected question left me taken aback as I nodded. “Yeah, I do. Haven’t had it in a long time, but—”
“Stop by my house later if you’d like some. I just baked a few loaves.”
And just like that, she was wandering off again and leaving me to finish the mopping. I couldn’t help but smile to myself, feeling like I’d finally made some headway with the old crone, when she stopped abruptly and turned around.
“And remember what I said about mopping with dirty water!”
I snorted and lifted my mouth in a lopsided grin. “I have a feeling you’ll never let me forget.”
***
“Soldier!” Howard greeted me as I headed back inside after helping Marjorie Bush load her car with her grocery bags.
“Yeah?”
“Youwannacome into my office for a second?”
There was a long list of things I’d prefer to doover spendingany time in Howard’s office. The guy was nice enough—I mean, he had offered me a job, experience unknown, and I couldn’t forget that—but, man, his office always smelled like onions and egg salad, and having any kind of conversation with him was about as exciting as watching the hands of a clock tick away the hours. But he was my boss, and he knew I wouldn’t say no, onion stench and all, so I nodded.
“Yeah, sure. Hold on a sec,” I said before hurrying over to purple-haired Kylie, wife of local music legend Devin O’Leary, who was having one hell of a time trying to reach a sack of flour off the top shelf.
I grabbed it for her, no problem, and she returned the favor with a grateful smile.
“I was ready to climb the shelves.” She laughed, her cheeks pinking beneath the warm overhead lights. “Shopping always sucks when Devin’s not around.”
Devin was a couple of inches shorter than me at six-five, which was nothing to scoff at. The one time I had the pleasure of meeting the guy, he’d laughed good-naturedly before graciously handing over the title of Tallest Guy in Town.
“You don’t have to climb anything. Just yell for me, and I’ll be there,” I replied, already taking a step backward to head in the direction of Howard’s office.
“Thanks, Soldier.”
