Fire and Rain [🗸]

13. groceries and outings

to rory n their shared love of rowan <3

***

SHOPPING WITH MOM is a strange experience.

When I was younger, it was fun. I'd run through the isles, push the cart too fast, beg for the huge pack of cookies from the bakery section. It never felt like I was dragged along. 

Today, mom had essentially woken me up at nine in the morning to tell me that we were going grocery shopping. I had wanted to refuse, but I didn't want to feel guilty or be guilt-tripped, so I went along anyway.

In all fairness, I don't mind being in the grocery store—the LED lights, the bright food, the one kid who is pushing their cart too fast to the annoyance of their parent following behind them.

It all feels familiar. It's something I know. A familiar rhythm and a familiar space.

Mom has me going over to the dairy isle to grab some milk, and I'm by the expansive fridge, grabbing one of the milk jugs by the handle, readying myself to head back over to the cart when I see him.

My breaths come in and out quicker and quicker and quicker.

Father Lawrence.

I can't necessarily say I forgot about him as much as I more so pushed the experience to the back of my mind. It was a one time thing to me—something that couldn't be erased but largely ignored, especially after spending the night at Zahra's place and almost all of yesterday with her. 

I regret everything about the conversation I had with him. I never should've talked to him. It was a dumbass, high-risk move, and now that he's here—in the same place my mom is—I'm rooted in spot.

I put all my energy into hoping he doesn't see her. He's coming out of the freezer area, toward the fruit area where my mom is holding a container of strawberries and assessing it. There's a chance that if he's too immersed in the beef jerky he's holding in his hand, he'll pass by her.

They won't talk, won't look up. Instead, he'll by his shit and leave. Fuck, I need him to buy his shit and leave.

But the universe is feeling like an asshole today, and sure enough, he looks up and catches sight of my mom. One of those wide, almost-patronizing grins appears on his lips. She sees him too, and she almost drops the mango that she's holding.

Father Lawrence has that effect. And it's not in the same way other people do, where they stun people in a positive way. No, he has this almost domineering presence, and people respond with more reverence than camaraderie when he approaches them.

He clasps his hands together. He always does that. I wonder if that's to make him appear to be more kind or compassionate, possibly more humble. Still, it doesn't seem to have that effect. He's saying something to her, and all I hope is that it has nothing to do with our conversation two days ago.