CHAPTER ELEVEN
Annie
I pull a box of Fruit Crunch off the shelf and jump out of my skin when I hear a male voice behind me. “Hello.”
I squeal in appropriate inside-voice terror until a butterflied hand extends over my shoulder and grabs a box of shredded wheat. My eyes track the box all the way into the empty shopping basket hanging beside Will’s leg.
“What are you doing here?” I sound accusatory only because I wasn’t expecting him, and I need a full five minutes to prepare for his company before I see him. You know, mentally gird my loins and all that.
He cocks his head. “Well, this activity is most widely understood as grocery shopping,” he says, lifting the basket as evidence.
I frown down into his basket instead of acknowledging his sarcastic remark because he has selected the single worst type of cereal, and I can’t allow him to continue living his life in such a depressing way. I remove his choice, put it back on the shelf, and place a box of Fruit Crunch in his basket.
“What I mean, Wilbur, is what are you doing here shopping in the middle of the day?”
He pulls the shredded wheat from the shelf again and puts it in my basket this time, looking down at me with playful indulgence. “You need fiber, Annie Walker.”
“You came all the way to town today because you had a strong suspicion my fiber intake was low?”
“All the way to town, yes.” He grins lazily and I realize there’s nothing quite like the sound of this man’s voice when he’s teasing.
And mother of pearl, he looks great today. His deep green T-shirt stretches across his shoulders in a way that gives me the urge to lightly sink my teeth right there on the rounded curve of his muscle. What kind of unhinged thought is that? Another reason to place Will in the not-for-me category. He disturbs the status quo of my sanity.
And although the black cargo joggers he’s wearing do him all kinds of favors, it’s those tattoos that are steering me down the path of no return. I trace the lines of the flowers and vines until they disappear under the sleeve of his shirt, and that’s when I feel irrationally angry because I have no idea where they end. Do they extend over his shoulder? Down his back? Over his chest?
I’ll never know, and it’s that thought that has me turning away from him feeling frustrated.
He catches up to me quickly. “Are you on your lunch break?”
“Yep. Mondays are my day to visit my grandma, so Jeanine works the shop for me for the second half of the day while I cut out a little early to do my grocery shopping, grab my grandma a box of her favorite vanilla wafers, and then head over to the assisted-living center to check on her.”
Why did I tell him all of that? He only asked if I was on my lunch break, and here I go sharing my entire schedule. Clearly my social skills are worse than I thought. Any second now he’ll smile pleasantly and then turn away. He’ll put a sticky note on my front door saying: Can’t help with lessons anymore. You bore me.
Will walks beside me. “How’s she doing?”
“Um—okay. She has Alzheimer’s, you know? So she has good days and bad. But overall she’s always declining. It’ll be like that from now on.” I stop in front of the oral hygiene section and stare blankly at the boxes as an unexpected wave of grief envelops me. I don’t often let myself think about the true state of her health—that one day the woman who raised me will be gone. It’s gut-wrenching.
“That sounds really tough,” he says gently, his body nearer to mine than a moment ago, like he wants to comfort me but doesn’t know how. I look up at him, and his warm gaze does nothing to help the sudden building emotion behind my eyes.
I blink and reach for a box of toothpaste and dump it into my basket. “It’s all right. I just enjoy the moments I have with her now,” I say, strong-arming those bad feelings out of the way. Feeling them doesn’t help anything. It doesn’t make her disease go away. It doesn’t bring back my parents. It’s easiest to not pay attention to them.
Will seems to want to say more but grabs the same brand of toothpaste as I did and puts it into his basket instead. He then selects a box of denture cleaner and drops it into mine before walking away.
I quickly replace it on the shelf and catch up to him. “Your turn. Why are you shopping in the middle of the day?”
He cuts a quick glance at me over his shoulder and slows his pace so I can catch up. “Amelia is in the studio, so I had some free time. Thought it would be the perfect moment to bless Harriet with my presence.”