Fed Up - By Jessica Conant-Park & Susan Conant Page 0,57
engage in a scandalous love affair, I debated about whether to get out of the van and follow Leo right into the supermarket. Feeling disappointed, I decided that the risk of being seen was just too high, so I stayed in the van and waited for him to emerge from the market. I consoled myself with the thought that I couldn’t be missing much: the probability was slight that he was having a clandestine amorous encounter among the cabbages, the steaks, or the cartons of milk.
After thirty minutes, I reconsidered: Leo still hadn’t appeared. Then my hopes rose when I caught sight of a police cruiser in a side-view mirror. I watched excitedly as it slowly passed by. Maybe Leo was about to be arrested! Eager to witness the capture of a murderer, I stuck my head out the window, but the cruiser moved past the entrance to the store and continued along.
A few minutes later, Leo exited the supermarket and pushed a full shopping cart to his car, where he transferred his shopping bags to the trunk and got into the car. The only vaguely suspect action he took was to fail to leave his cart in one of the designated areas, but irresponsibility with regard to shopping carts obviously didn’t prove him guilty of true crimes. As he backed out of his parking spot, I started up the van’s engine and shifted into reverse. Before I’d even put my foot on the gas, however, I was stopped by the presence of a police cruiser right behind me. The lights were flashing. Seconds later, that first cruiser was joined by a second one.
A uniformed officer slowly approached and through the open window of the van said, “License and registration, please.”
I smiled brightly at the officer, who looked old enough to be my great-grandfather. I prayed that my winning grin would send him away. “Is there a problem?” I asked as I fumbled through my purse. What was I thinking? Of course there was a problem! Why else was this cop talking to me? I handed him my license, shuffled through papers and maps in the glove compartment, found the registration, and passed it to him. I couldn’t be in that much trouble since this officer looked so ancient and scrawny that I had a hard time picturing him chasing down violent, gun-toting criminals. I could probably knock this man over with one push of my pinky finger.
Without even examining the registration, he wrinkled his wrinkles and said, “This vehicle had been reported stolen.”
Crap.
I hate the kind of robotic pretense at politeness that’s more offensive than honest rudeness, and that’s what I got. It took twenty minutes to straighten out the mess, but the officer did eventually call my parents, who convinced him that I hadn’t stolen a beat-up van that no one would even dream of stealing. Giving up on Leo for the day, I left to exchange the supposedly stolen van for my Saturn. On the way, I called my mother and fed her an improbable tale about scouting out neighborhoods where people might be interested in rain barrels.
“You’re not even working this week, Chloe,” my mother said with exasperation. “You have the week off to help with the wedding. And the next time you take one of our vans, you’d better let us know!”
“Promise.” I said. And meant it! I wanted never again to face the kind of public humiliation I’d just experienced.
“While I have you on the phone, I had a call from Robin. She thinks she left her cell phone at our house.”
“She did. I have it.”
“Chloe! Why haven’t you let her know? She is a producer for a television station, and I’m sure she needs it back. What is going on with you?”
“Nothing. I’ll call her as soon as I get home.”
I hung up feeling grumpy and frustrated. While learning nothing about Leo, I’d pissed off my mother. When I reached my condo, I dug up Robin’s home number and left her an apologetic message saying that I had her cell phone and would be happy to return it anytime. Then I cleaned the apartment and spiffed myself up for Josh’s arrival. The first half of the day had stunk, but maybe the evening with my boyfriend would compensate.
SIXTEEN
WHEN Josh arrived, I threw my arms around him and kissed him deeply. When we finally came up for air, he said, “Well, it’s nice to see you, too.”