After a year and a half of trying to move on from the what-ifs, the tides have pulled Alexandra Rivera and Zachariah Kim back together again.
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In the h...
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Emmie finds me sitting on one of the small tables outside the store.
"Ready to go?" she asks as my drink runs empty.
I nod, standing up and tossing it into the trash. "Sufficiently satisfied with the amount of sugar I just inhaled."
"As long as my baby's happy."
"Very happy."
Since we managed to snag some time to do some food shopping the other week, we decided to make it a weekly trip that can kill two birds with one stone: spend time together and get work done.
The store isn't busy since it's a weekday, so we peruse the aisles at a leisurely pace and not feel like we're getting in anybody's way or vice versa.
"How'd it go last night?" Emmie asks when we round a corner in the produce section.
I had texted her about a rowdy group of guys that came in during the last hour we were open. I'd alerted her of the arrivals but got too distracted to keep her updated after they had left. It was pretty late by then and I was the most tired I'd been all week.
"I had a killer headache for most of the night so that was fun." I reach down to test some of the avocados and see if they're ripe.
She cringes the right amount and dumps a container of strawberries into the cart. "Men offer us no shortage of disappointment."
"Especially when they hound us in groups," I add. "And their specialty is attacking when we're at work so we're forced to paint a fake smile on our face and say thank you."
Emmie laughs. "Oh, the joys of working in the service industry."
"Did you ever reschedule dinner with your brother yet?"
We're in the pasta aisle so I rifle through the shelves looking for ingredients to make spaghetti, a dish I somehow manage to not screw up.
"Not yet but Anthony said he's bringing Kaioh with him to the protest so we might go somewhere after."
"Calum wouldn't stop texting me the other night asking what he should wear or put on his poster," Emmie laughs. "You'd think we were taking him to Disneyland or something, he's so excited about it."
I smile at the thought of him rummaging through his closet to find the perfect fit for the protest. "He's too good to me."
Emmie shakes her head. "He's exactly the right amount of good for you. Calum is the kind of friend we all need."
"You're right." I reach up on my tippy toes to grab a box of pasta shells and let them fall into the cart. "The only thing he lacks, much like me, is the ability to cook a decent home-cooked meal."
She looks pointedly at the box in the cart and back up again at me. "What are you getting that for then?"
"Don't they have those jars of cheese sauce or something?"
