So many crosswords. As many as anyone could ever want. Isn’t that something?
Of course, Tova has won every match so far, but Janice is improving quickly.
At the Shop-Way, Ethan is manning the deli when Tova enters the store. With a pen tucked behind his ear, he halts the conversation he’s having with a customer midsentence and waves.
“Hello, Ethan,” she calls, her voice even. She lifts a shopping basket from the stack at the store’s front.
“Afternoon, love,” he says, giving her a resigned look before going back to taking the order of the group crowded into the booth.
Tova shops thoughtfully, giving each item she adds to her cart an extra layer of scrutiny. Jams and jellies are on promotion: buy one, get one free. But Tova doesn’t need two jellies. She might not even need one. Of course, she won’t be needing her own jam at Charter Village, although her suite will have a small kitchenette with a refrigerator. She selects a small jar of raspberry preserves, which could be brought along if she doesn’t use it up this week.
Two checkout lanes are running when she finishes, and she’s relieved to see that Ethan has finished with the group in the deli and is now tending the one on the left. It’s no contest to choose that one, even though the line is longer. She arranges her modest collection of groceries on the belt, then carefully tucks the T-shirt, which she’s rolled neatly, at the end, nestling it between her quart of milk and a waxy orange grapefruit.
“Congratulations on the sale of your house.” Ethan clears his throat, as if trying to cough away the awkwardness. He rings through the bread, jam, coffee, eggs. Not looking up, he scans her packet of wafer crackers, weighs her single green apple. Finally, he picks up the white shirt, and he turns it over twice in his left hand while aiming the scanner with his right, looking for a UPC code, before recognition dawns on his face. His mouth falls open as he allows the shirt to unroll.
“Where on earth did you . . . ?” His voice sounds like it’s caught in a net. “I mean, how did you find . . . ?”
Tova straightens. “I bought it on the internet.”
“You what?”
“It was one of those online auctions. Janice Kim helped me,” she admits.
Suddenly stern, he asks, “How much did you spend on this, Tova?”
“Well, I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”
He rolls the shirt back up and gives it a perturbed shake. “These are expensive. Thousands of dollars.”
There are three customers waiting in line behind Tova now. Two of them crane their necks, straining to soak up the drama.
“There’s no need to get upset,” she hisses. “I’m simply replacing the item I ruined.”
Ethan holds the shirt close to his chest. “It was just a T-shirt,” he mumbles.
“It was important to you,” Tova says, her voice shaky.
“Many things are important to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Tova whispers.
“Don’t say that, love.” His large green eyes are heavy. “I’d give away a hundred of those bloody shirts to redo that supper at my house.” He holds the shirt back up, taking in the Grateful Dead concert image. He smiles at Tova. “You really bought this on the internet?”
“Indeed. And I drove to Tukwila to pick it up.”
Ethan’s eyes widen. “You drove all the way down there?”
“Yes.”
“On the freeway?”
“Well, there wasn’t another practical route.”
“You’re quite a woman, Tova. Did you know that?”
Tova doesn’t know how to respond, so she just holds out the stack of bills to pay for her groceries. But when she arrives back home, while she smears butter on a wafer cracker and slices the single green apple, she replays his words in her head on a loop.
TOVA MEETS JESSICA SNELL at an attorney’s office down in Elland at eleven on Wednesday morning, as instructed, to sign her portion of the closing papers.
The papers, it turns out, are not quite ready. The hard knot in Tova’s chest softens, briefly, at the notion that she might not have to do this today. But it’s a glitch with the copier; it will only delay things a few minutes. The receptionist apologizes profusely for this setback and offers Jessica and Tova coffee, which Jessica declines but Tova gladly accepts. It’s the watery kind, and the paper cup has a waxy aftertaste, but Tova sips it anyway. While they wait in a small conference room, Jessica tells Tova more about the buyers, which is not information that Tova asked for, necessarily. It’s a family from Texas. Three little ones. The husband’s job has relocated him, and he and his wife took a trip up this summer to scope out real estate. They fell hard for Tova’s house. The view, the architecture. They said that although they’ll be making plenty of updates, the house has amazing bones.