Secrets Whispered from the Sea - Emma St. Clair Page 0,59
over packages.”
I smiled. People take priority over packages. That would make a great T-shirt or bumper sticker. “As well they should. Thanks again, Craig.”
I managed to make my feet move toward the pharmacy aisle. Craig was right about getting the non-refrigerated items first. Plus, I could hide the condoms and pads under everything else. Win-win. I shouldn’t be embarrassed by either one, honestly. I was a grown woman. Who could judge if I needed a large box of condoms and also adult diapers? But I buried them under the produce, canned goods, and other items anyway.
I finished up at the deli counter, wondering why there were so many cold cuts and diced cheeses on the list. Were they having some kind of sandwich party?
I took a yellow number from the counter and waited, munching on a box of bagel chips. Mom had always plied me and Ann at the grocery store with cookies from the bakery and the promise that we could pick one thing from the rack of sweets near the register if we behaved. I still liked to get a reward with my groceries.
“Sixty-two!”
“That’s me.” I stepped up to the counter, phone in one hand and my yellow number in the other. It immediately became clear why there were so many cold cuts on the list. And why the Three Terrors had really sent me to the store.
“My morning just got a little brighter.” The gorgeous man on the other side of the counter grinned with the biggest, whitest teeth I’d seen outside of a commercial, twin dimples flashing in his cheeks. His warm brown eyes twinkled. “How may I help you today, sixty-two?”
I dropped the slip of paper, and it fluttered to the counter. He reached across and picked it up, pressing it into my hand. If I wasn’t imagining it, and I didn’t think I was, he let his fingers brush against mine longer than necessary.
“Aren’t you supposed to take the number?” I asked.
“Why don’t you keep it? Just in case you want something to remind you of this morning.”
Then, he winked.
Of course he did. I debated which of the three ladies had come up with this plan. My money was on Sylvia. But all three were guilty, and I’d get some kind of revenge on them.
“I’ve got a bit of a list for you,” I said, looking down at my phone.
“Let me see.” The man pulled my phone from my hand and scanned the list, clucking his tongue. “Are you having a party or something? I’d love an invitation.”
This guy was gutsy. I’d give him that. He teetered between being confident and arrogant. Not the same kind of arrogant as Alec, but a more charming version. Which, oddly, I liked even less.
“It’s not for me. I’m shopping for … my grandmother’s friends.”
“Ah. Makes more sense.” He smiled again. “Give me a minute. I’ll jot this down and then get started. You might want to come back. This could take some time.”
“Of course.” I could see a handful of other shoppers beginning to gather behind me, and a moment later, the speakers overhead called for backup to the deli.
“Here you go,” the man said, flashing those dimples again as he handed back my phone. “And I took the liberty of adding my name in your phone. Just in case.” Another wink. “I’m Jason.”
I turned away from Jason and his dimples, clutching the phone tightly in my hand. I shot Vivi a text while wandering aimlessly.
Me: Frail arms and feeble knees, huh? That’s why you needed my help?
Vivi: Be glad you don’t have arthritis.
Me: I just went to the deli.
There was a long pause, while I could see the screen showing that Vivi was typing. Then it stopped. Then typing again.
Vivi: And how is the deli today?
Me: Jason is doing just fine. A little young for you, don’t you think?
Vivi: But just right for a young lady who might be single and ready to mingle.
Ew. I wanted to add an entry to the end of Nana’s book: abolish the phrase “single and ready to mingle,” especially when you’re older than sixty. Not for the first time, I found myself thinking about making a book of my own. But who would I pass it on to? Sophie and Camille, maybe? I hadn’t changed my mind about marriage or kids, but realizing that I didn’t have my own people to pass things down to made me sad. I’d just need to be the very best aunt ever.