"Why do you need three jars of olives? Who eats straight olives like that?" Raphael read off of my list.
"I like jarred and pickled things. Cottagecore."
"What on god's green earth is that, Bird?" He mumbled.
"The idea of living alone or with my very small and happy family in a cottage in the country or middle of nowhere is very appealing." I explained.
"I can see why that'd be nice, but three jars of olives?"
"Okay, fine. Two." I groaned. "Next?"
"Pumpkin? It's November."
"It's still in season, leave me alone." I stuck my tongue out at him "You're the one who wanted to come with me."
"I worry for you, Birdie." He ruffled up my hair.
"St-Stop that." I pushed his hand away, speed walking to the produce section. "I've been fine for almost two weeks now."
"I can't help it. You're so t-"
"If you say tiny, I'll creep into your room while you sleep and learn your innermost secrets."
"Small."
"That's literally no better." I picked up two perfect looking sugar pumpkins with my good arm.
"Why those? There are huge ones down that aisle."
"These are just for baking, and sorry to break it to you Raphael... Those are styrofoam."
"It'd explain why they all look identical." He slouched.
"It's okay, you big baby. Come on. That should be all." I motioned for him to follow me to the checkout. The sound of Raphael gasping caught my attention. "Hey, I was just joking." I laughed. His mouth hung open and he charged toward a magazine rack.
"Are you kidding me?" He groaned.
"What? They caught your bad side?" I pulled my cart into a line and leaned over to see what he was looking at. "Oh my god!"
"I'll find whoever did this! I promise, I-"
"These are the nicest photos of me I've ever seen."
"Okay, but the headline?"
"Red or Blue: How Could You Pick Who? Corny and gross." I grimaced.
"Uh, welcome to your first scandal, Birdie."
"It's not so bad. They hired some real good photographers." I looked closer. "Just who is this petite person who's won the hearts of the bigger Hamato brothers?" My jaw dropped.
"Hey, freak, watch your cart!" A grumpy middle aged man yapped behind us. Refuse the urge to murder this guy, Raph. I spun on my heel and flashed my eyes at him. When he looked back at me, a flash of useless thoughts and memories flew by.
"It's my cart! Watch your mouth, you pitiful excuse of a man. You're just going to go home and binge drink in that piss and booze soaked red recliner until you pass out, so what's the rush, right? It's not like you have anybody besides the mildew and cobwebs waiting for you at your dingy run down studio apartment you swore to fix two wives ago. I advise you leave before I further expose just how sad you are, you waste of oxygen and space." I spat. His eyes widened as he backed his cart up and wordlessly left my line. The sound of a watch beeping caught my ear.
"Jesus Christ. Was that it? Did you do the thing?" Raphael set me down. I didn't notice he'd picked me up.
"Yes. I did." I picked up a copy of the magazine. "Who do they think they are!? Calling me petite... I know people just as short and shorter than me!"
"Who?" Raphael raised his eyebrows.
"D-Danny Devito."
"He doesn't count. You don't really know him." He loaded the groceries on the belt.
"It's like you want me to admit I don't have friends, Raphael."
"What am I chopped liver?" He put a hand to his chest. "Ouch. I'm hurt, Birdie."
"Shut up." I scooted past him so I could pay.
"No can do. You're cooking for us tomorrow, and I would like to pay."
"Please don't." I attempted to put my card in the machine, but he pulled it out and held it above his head. "You really are a big baby."
"It's a thank you gift." He loaded them back in the cart, bagged.
"For what?"
"Defending me." He said softly, after reaching the car.
"Aw, Raphael." I stopped him.
"You probably heard me trying to cope." He tapped his forehead. "That's our most common and least favorite insult."
"Hey, don't get all down about it, bud. If it makes you feel better, now I know all of that man's personal life. You're not the only one suffering."
"Oh, I feel bad for you." He bit his lip. "Do you ever forget?"
"Rarely. But hey, it comes with the 'gift'." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Thank you for doing all the lifting. Donnie still has to give me the okay to do stuff like this on my own." I put my hand over my scar.
"Well. You got shot in the arm, then had heart surgery, so don't expect him to go easy on you." Raphael smiled at me, opening my door.
"This is why people ship us, stop it." I playfully slapped him on the shell. "Go to your side!"
"Okay, okay!" He jogged over to his side, started the car, and got buckled before I was able to close my door with my bad arm. "Here." He reached over and did my seatbelt for me.
"Dude!" I smacked his hand away. "Can you stop being a Romeo for one minute?"
"Sorry!" He laughed.
"They say Mikey's the flirt? Try again!"
"Cut it out, your windows open!" He pulled out of the parking lot.
