Page 26 of Falling Together
“That’s awfully nice of you,” I say.
“It’s what we do around here.” He plops six sausages onto a tray and wraps them in brown paper. “If you need help finding anything, just let me know.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
Pulling out my phone, I find the list of everything we need. We sustained ourselves mainly on takeout for the first few days, but I don’t want to keep that up.
Spices. Paper towels. Cooking spray. Anything and everything is on my list. I take my time, meandering down each aisle, filling my cart with what I think we’ll need.
Luke is going to eat me out of house and home with the amount of food he can put away.
Turning from one aisle to another, an older woman stops me.
“Are you the new guy Mr. Moore was just telling me about?”
The basket in her arms is full of odds and ends.
“I am. Word gets around fast here,” I say.
“I’m Betty. I work down at the Hash ’N Hop. Why don’t you come on by some time for breakfast? My treat.”
“I’m Grant. That’s nice of you, Betty,” I say, fidgeting with the back of my baseball hat. “I’ll have to check with my schedule and see what day works.”
“Any day is fine.” She waves me off. “We’re always open. Now, what brings you to town?”
“I’m the new coach of the Loggers.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh, how wonderful. Pete did a great job. We’re very proud that he got called to another team. We’re hoping he wins a championship.”
“I just hope I can keep up the good work he started.”
She pats me on the arm. “I think you will. The Loggers are a good bunch of boys, even if they can get a bit rowdy at the after-parties.”
“The after-parties?” I quirk a brow at her.
She beams at me, pink bandanna holding her hair back. “Oh, yes. I always keep the diner open late after the games so they can come have a bite to eat. You’re welcome to join them.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense. You’re the coach. You’ll have to join.” She points down at her basket. “I have to get back to the diner, but it was nice to meet you, Grant. I’ll see you there soon.”
“Thanks, Betty. It was nice to meet you too.”
Before I can get halfway through the bread aisle, I’m stopped by another two people. If I were in LA, I would already be out of the store. Everyone is in and out, not even wanting to make eye contact with anyone else.
Here, everyone wants to know my life story.
What brought me to town?
Am I married?
Dating anyone?
Kids?
Favorite kind of parakeet?
That last one threw me for a loop, but the kid was six. At this rate, I’m going to be at the store until midnight getting the shopping done. Maybe if I’m lucky, no one else will stop me.
