Doors Close, Windows Open

One Enchanted Evening

"People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar."    Thich Nhat Hanh

"That'll be seventy-eight dollars and ninety-five cents," I said to the man as he handed me four twenties. Men almost always paid in cash, women with credit cards. "Would you like help out with your groceries?"

"No thanks," he answered. Men never asked for a carry out. But I had to ask, it was store policy. "Thank you for shopping with us. Have a great day!" He smiled and nodded as he grabbed his bags and walked out.  After him came a familiar face, but I needed a moment to place a name with the face.

"Amanda Peterson? What are you doing here?" She asked. Her voice triggered my memory. Wow, that was bad.

"Mary Johnson!" I said with gusto, delighted that the name came back to me.  "Looks like I'll be ringing up your groceries," I answered with a smile and wink.

"I can see that," she said as she returned the smile.

"I mean," she countered, "Well, you know what I mean. Why are you ringing up groceries at Vicks in Kingsbury? I thought you lived in Chicago!"

"It's a long story, more than I can go into now."

"I see it, but I don't believe it. What... Why... Never mind. When do you get off?" A sarcastic remark came to mind, but I let it go. The big clock near the entry door registered four-thirty.

"In a half-hour, at five."

"Perfect," she said, "If you don't have other plans, come to our cabin. It's just a few minutes from here. Mitch will be thrilled to see you, and you'll meet our kids. I got a whole mess of 'em!"

"I, uh, I don't know, I don't want to impose," I said, imagining a multitude of questions I didn't want to answer and a horde of screaming, bickering children.

"Oh Mandy," she said, "You won't be imposing. I'm the one imposing, but I would love it if you did come. Even if you can just squeeze in a few minutes. You have to tell me all about what's brought you back.  And, explain why you didn't tell me you are back!"

Mary and Mitch dated through most of High School and married a few years after graduation. I was happy they were still together. Not calling her, even though Mom had suggested I do just that, had been a pretty lousy thing to do. Guilt is a powerful motivator.

"That will be twenty-seven-dollars and ninety-seven cents," I said, "I'd be delighted to come over, see Mitch and meet the kids." I could be pretty good liar when I needed to be.

She handed me a debit card and I ran it through the machine. "Oh, that's wonderful. So I'll see you in about an hour," she said, as she punched in her PIN number. The screen read "Approved" so I handed her the bag of condiments and buns. I shoved the receipt under the twenties, and shut the register drawer. Mary passed me a slip of paper on which she'd written the address and phone number. "Easy peasy to find using Google Maps, but if you get lost, call," she said.

"No problem," I answered.

"There'll be enough food to feed an army, so come prepared to eat!"

"I always am," I smiled and waved goodbye.

After closing out my drawer and leaving the store, I typed the address into my phone's navigation system and sent my mom a text. I knew that if I called, she' go on and on about how I should have reached out to Mary much sooner. The directions were straightforward. I had to admit, it would be nice to spend time with Mary and Mitch. They had been high school sweethearts, the "It" couple of our graduating class, and genuinely nice people.  He went into education, teaching high school last I'd heard, and she'd earned a Master's degree in Sociology. I didn't know what he was doing now, but mom said that Mary was the school counselor at Kingsburry High School.