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“Is there a question there?”
One thing’s for certain, he’s still pissed. I better wrap this up and get home to my Evelyn. I have more pressing issues than entertaining his insults. “Not really, I guess. I’m surprised to bump into you is all.”
“I gotta eat, just like everybody else.”
“Right.” I lower my gaze. I shouldn’t be surprised he doesn’t want to strike up a conversation with me.
I shove my cart to maneuver around him, but the damn thing doesn’t move. I close my eyes and summon patience.
“Your wheel’s broken.”
My eyes pop open, and I inspect the wheels. “Well, that’s just great.”
Law walks to the nearest end cap and returns with a shopping basket. Without asking me, he transfers my items from the cart. “Are you always this dramatic?”
“Only when I’m trying to get home to my sick daughter,” I snap.
He hesitates with the box of popsicles in his hand. Turning only his head, he searches my face. “She okay?” As he waits for my reply, he straightens, and my now full basket of items dangles from his fingertips.
My heart aches knowing the direction his thoughts must have gone. Law’s right. I am dramatic. “Yeah, she’s okay,” I murmur. “It’s just the flu. I need to get her some soup for dinner.”
Law strides over to the deli counter. I reluctantly follow as he still holds my basket. During our exchange, the line disappeared as they helped other customers. He hands my items over to the employee. “Hey, Cory, can you ring these things up? We also need some soup. Cami, what does your girl like?”
Several things happen at once, and my brain can’t keep up. Like how he knows the employee’s first name. Or the way he asks me what soup Evelyn likes, as if he’s ordering for me. Last, the fact he’s being friendly at all.
I close my mouth and shake off the surprise. Let him be helpful. The less we fight, the faster I can get home to Evelyn.
“Um, gnocchi or butternut squash. In that order. Oh, and some French bread.”
The corner of Law’s mouth twitches. “I’ll take a half-gallon of gnocchi, a half-gallon of the squash, and you have any of that toasted sweet bread made up?”
“I can just grab a loaf and toast it myself.” I offer, not needing to purchase the expensive stuff.
“Sure do. You want a half or a whole?” Cory moves around as he speaks, filling two half-gallon containers with the soups Law ordered. I hope he plans on taking one for himself, because that’s too much for Evelyn and me.
“Make it a whole.”
I open my mouth to interject again, when Law shocks the shit out of me by handing over his credit card.
“Law!”
“Shut it, Cami. The less you argue, the quicker you can get home.”
Damn him! A headache throbs behind my eyes.
I turn to the display case and busy my mind with reading all the nameplates in front of the various salads. I read through: No-Bake Baked Potato Salad, Buffalo Chicken Salad, Three Cucumber Salad, Broccoli Cheese Salad, Deli Antipasto Toss, and Cranberry Pistachio Cloud before he touches my shoulder and informs me it’s time to leave as if I’m a child.
“I can carry my things,” I say halfheartedly. At this point, he isn’t even listening, and frustration fills my veins.
We step together into the November chill. I fold my coat tighter around my body and hold out my hand for my bags. “Thanks. I’ve got it from here.”
“Where’s your car?”
“Lawrence, I got it.”
“I didn’t ask if you got it. I asked where’s your car.”
“Please. I just want to get home.”
