Grocery Shopping

Shopping

The front wheels of the grocery cart went their separate ways, each exploring a different side of the cereal aisle and neither obeying the back ones. Grace pushed the laden cart with two hands, and Paul insisted on having one of his resting on the bar regardless of that fact.

"Do we need more Cheerios?" asked Grace.

"Don't think so. Should we get some just in case?" Paul was already reaching for the box.

Grace nodded. "Let's get a big one just in case."

He dropped it in the cart, smiling at the cake sitting in the end of it. "Hope she likes it."

"It's chocolate, why wouldn't she?"

"Who knows," Paul laughed. "Do you think we should've gotten a vanilla one instead? They had them in the case. I could go grab one."

"It's—"

"Or a mixed one? Like one of those marbled black and white ones?"

"Honey, it—"

"No, we should've gotten an ice cream cake. She likes ice cream, right? Yeah."

"Paul." Grace was a little firmer this time and stopped the cart, putting her hand softly on his arm and telling him to stand still. "She'll love it."

He took a deep breath. "I know, I know. I just want it to be perfect, you know?"

"Yeah, I know, honey."

Just then, there was a slight commotion behind the couple, so they turned to look. An elderly woman was trying to reach the Fiber1 cereals, and she had knocked down a few of the lower boxes.

"Oh dear, let me help you with that." Even as she said it, Grace was already jogging along the aisle and leaning down to grab the boxes from the floor. Paul pushed the cart to the side and tossed a glance back at it as he also went to help.

"Are you okay?" He put one hand on the elderly woman's shoulder and looked her in the eyes.

"Yes, I'm sorry for causing a fuss. Thank you both so much for helping me."

Paul and Grace exchanged a smile.

"No thanks necessary," Grace remarked.

Paul reached up towards the higher cereals then paused and looked down at the elderly woman, arm above his head and hand hovering by the shelf. "Which one were you reaching for?"

"The Fiber1 bran cereal, in the blue and white box," the woman replied, pointing at the box she described. "Thank you both so very much."

"Got it," Paul replied as he pulled it off the shelf. "Which is your cart?"

The elderly woman pointed to the one nearest to the three of them. Paul placed the cereal inside alongside her granola and yogurt.

"Do you need to get any other groceries?" Grace inquired gently, finishing putting away the fallen boxes.

"I just need to get some fruit for my husband."

"Let me help you," offered Paul.

Grace nodded at them both. "I can finish our groceries. Meet you at the check-out," she whispered to her husband as he walked past her. Paul took the old woman's cart in one hand and her arm in his other, letting her guide him through the supermarket to wherever she needed to go.

"How long have you and your husband been married?" he asked, making conversation.

Grace didn't hear her response because she was taking their cart in the opposite direction. Once out of the cereal aisle, she darted away from the registers and instead into the candy aisle.

"Gotta get him this," she smiled, holding a bar of Godiva dark chocolate with raspberries. Realizing that she had spoken aloud, she dropped her gaze and plopped the bar into the cart, going over to the registers.

Beep, beep, beep, beep. The items were rung up one by one, each accompanied by a mechanical tone.

"Your total comes to $37.82. Would you like a receipt?" The high school cashier popped her gum and stared impatiently at Grace. "Ma'am?"

"Oh, yes please. Thank you." She took the receipt and put it in one of the bags. Setting the groceries down on a bench just past the registers, she made sure that the cake was upright and nothing was atop it. Once that was verified, she sat down herself and waited for her husband.

"Grace honey, sorry for making you wait," panted Paul.

"It's fine. Did she get all her groceries?" Grace stood as she asked.

"Yeah, she's a really sweet lady. Shall we go?" He was still speaking slightly faster than necessary.

"Ought to, we're already running late."

Paul picked all the bags, refusing to let Grace take any more than just the one with the cake.

"What? When did it start raining?" sputtered Paul, realizing how heavily it was raining.

"Guess we have to make a dash for the car," Grace giggled, already running out from under the overhang.

Paul raced to catch up, trying to hold all the bags under his body in a futile effort to keep them from the rain. He arrived at the back door of the car just after Grace, who was standing getting drenched. But keeping the cake utterly dry.

"Hurry," she giggled. "Unlock the car."

Trying to unload a bag or two onto his wife, Paul retrieved the keys from his pocket and clicked the button. Grace grabbed the door handle and pulled it open.

"Your bags first," she insisted. "I'll hold the cake up front."

Once in the car, doors closed and locked, the two burst into laughter.

"Look at us, we're gonna get the seats absolutely soaked." Paul laughed.

Grace just smiled in return and looked up at the sky. Inserting and turning the key, the old car purred to life, seats vibrating and headlights flicking on.