The Professor (Book 2)

15: 'Senior' Care

Maybe this was idiotic, but I didn't care. After the second time Harry had solved a millennium problem, I had baked him a cake. Now, having done it a third time, I felt it was only appropriate to continue the tradition.

Standing in the supermarket a few days later, I was walking up and down the baking aisle with my cart, pulling down everything I needed. As usual, Harry had no idea what was coming, but I had secured the kitchen from Jean tonight, giving both him and Giselle the evening off. I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind that.

He didn't seem to mind all that much the last time, at least.

Grinning to myself, I was looking for the right color of sprinkles, when I suddenly heard a feeble voice behind me.

"E-excuse me?" An elderly lady piped up behind me with a thin, raspy voice.

Turning, I found a small old lady, almost completely hunched over her walker, looking up at me with a frail smile. She had a small net of tinned pineapples and a bag of sugar in the compartment of her walker, but her little shaky hand was reaching towards something on one of the higher shelves.

"Would you mind..." She pointed shakily towards a bag of flour. "It's a bit heavy..."

"Oh, of course!" I immediately got the heavy bag of flour down from the high shelf, bringing it to her. "Is this the one you wanted?"

"Oh, thank you, dear," She smiled, patting the bag. "Yes, that's the one."

"I'll just put it right here for you," I told, popping it into her net right next to the tinned pineapple. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Oh, no, thank you so much. That's very kind of you," She croaked warmly, before then trudging on with her walker at the slowest pace known to man.

I smiled after her, seeing her unfold something from her hand—a small scrap of paper, it looked like. With a little mumble, she read the note to herself while occasionally glancing up at the shelves with squinted eyes.

How in the world was she going to carry all those groceries home herself?

Biting my lip, I looked into my own cart, seeing all my ingredients almost there. I just needed the sprinkles.

Grabbing a random can of sprinkles, I quickly tossed it into my cart and then wheeled after the old lady, coming up beside her.

"You know, I'm baking a cake later," I said casually, as if I was just making conversation. The lady looked up, surprised to see me again. "I love to bake, so I'm making a chocolate cake with cream frosting. What about you? Are you baking as well?" I said, looking into her net with what looked like baking supplies.

"Oh, I try to," She wheezed with a little smile. "I used to make these... pineapple biscuits my husband used to love... our anniversary is this week, and I thought I might... well, he's gone now, but I thought I might make them anyway."

Why did old people always make me wanna cry and hug them?

"That sounds so lovely," I smiled lovingly. "I'm sure he would've appreciated it a lot. How long were you together?"

"61 years," She smiled, her whole face lighting up at the talk of her late husband. "He died last year. High school sweethearts. He asked me to the spring dance of... 1957, I think it was. Oh, yes. He wore this big silly suit in the most horrendous blue color."

"Oh no," I grinned, shaking my head as the old lady chuckled. "And you still went with him?"

"Well, he was quite the dancer, so I thought I'd give him a chance," She chuckled. "He took me dancing every year on that same day ever since. His favorite song was Tony Bennett's 'All The Things You Are'."