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But every now and then, the darkness slips back in. It doesn’t last as long as it once did, but is still a clenched fist around my heart when it does.
I nod, forcing a sad smile. “I wish there was a way to delete that memory.” My gaze drifts out the window. “A way to push it to the very end of all my memories of him.”
“Me too.” She gives my hand one last squeeze, then releases it. “What are you doing after this?”
Skylar and I planned our lunch date days ago. If today were a normal day, we would cross the street after lunch and wander town. Stop in the bookstore and harass Delilah in the romance section. Visit the thrift store in search of new clothes on the racks or curious knickknacks on the shelves.
Instead, Stone Bay is a dismal ghost town without a ray of sunshine.
“Grocery shopping,” I say with false enthusiasm.
“Mind if I tag along? There are a few things we need anyway.”
“Girl time at the grocery store.” I roll my eyes and chuckle. “Why do I suddenly feel twice my age?”
Our laughter fills the air and garners the attention of everyone in Rosenberg’s. An older woman narrows her eyes at us while a man closer to our age stares on like we’ve lost our minds.
And maybe we have.
But if death has taught me anything, it’s that you have to live in the present. You have to experience every moment as if it may be your last. Live life to the fullest because you never know what tomorrow will bring.
End each day with a satiated soul, not a hungry heart.
“Come on.” I rise from my chair and offer her my elbow. “Let’s go tear up the grocery store.”
“Wow,” we say in unison as we survey the grocery store parking lot.
“Are we getting a snowstorm neither of us heard about?” Skylar asks.
Middle of a weekday and almost nowhere to park at the grocery store. Add that to the list of things you have never seen in Stone Bay.
“Either that or there’s one hell of a sale,” I muse.
We scurry through the doors and grab carts from the corral. Residents mill about, tossing anything and everything in their baskets as they clear shelves. Skylar and I freeze near the entrance, both of us awestruck.
A woman with a full cart of bagged groceries heads in our direction on swift feet. I hold up my hand as she approaches, hoping she will stop. After a tentative look, she rolls to a stop.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I say. “Why is the store so busy?”
With a tilt of her head, she narrows her eyes and regards me a moment. “You didn’t hear?”
Hear what?
When I don’t answer, she continues. “A young woman was murdered near the Barron property.”
Slowly, I nod. “Yes, I heard about that.” My face grows tight as I try to figure out what that has to do with the town emptying the grocery store.
Me not connecting the dots must grate her nerves because her expression morphs from one of concern to indignance. “You younger people keep living life as if nothing’s going on around you. Someone died.” Her stare turns icy as she looks from me to Skylar. “We should all be at home, where it’s safe.” She shakes her head. “Not out having fun.” Shoving her cart between ours, she darts out the door.
“Since when is grocery shopping fun?” I mutter and steer my cart toward the pharmacy. “I need to pick up my prescription.”
“Meet me in produce?”
I nod. “Be there in a minute.”
Second in line, I tap my fingers on the shopping cart to the overhead music. Before the song ends, I step up to the window.
“Miss Sparks,” the pharmacy assistant greets, his tone as indifferent as his expression. “Picking up?”
