Chapter Thirty

I had never been on a date to the grocery store. That is, if you could call this a date. We were showing up a few minutes apart, Monday night, in separate vehicles. Reed’s objective was for us to run into each other but act as if it was happenstance. How did this become my life? And why did I agree to this? Probably because I liked him, he made me smile, and I really did need groceries. And never had anyone gone to such lengths to see me.

I chose Jewel, my favorite grocery store and the one farthest away from my house in Clearfield, so I hoped we wouldn’t see anyone we knew. I was also going later than normal, which made me feel some guilt knowing Cody was home alone, but I knew he enjoyed the freedom. Besides, he was the reason I needed to grocery shop so often.

Grocery store dating also meant wearing something besides yoga pants and a t-shirt. I decided on a dark pair of jeans because they made me look thin, and a form-fitting, burgundy sweater with leather flats. I felt like it fell nicely between I-couldn’t-care-less-what-I-look-like and I’m-trying-way-too-hard.

The plan was for me to show up first, which I did, but that didn’t stop me from looking around the half-full parking lot to see if he was there. I admit I was looking forward to seeing him.

I started in the produce section with my cart and list. My heart was pounding more than normal in anticipation. It made it hard to focus on getting the perfect Honeycrisp apples Cody and I were both fond of. I must have picked up ten and not looked at one of them. I tried not to look around too much as I wanted to act nonchalant, but I felt like I was failing miserably.

Then it happened. I was placing the perfectly shaped apple in the appropriate green produce bag when Reed walked behind me and, in passing, said, “Fancy meeting you here.”

I smiled before I turned to meet him, but he had already passed and was looking at the bananas not too far away. He gave me a sly grin from across the way. I finished picking out my apples and moved on to tomatoes.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Reed had moved on to grapes. He held up two bags. “Green or red grapes?”

I barely paused. “Red.”

“Those are my favorite, too.” His grin was now more seductive. I should mention it looked like he upped his grocery shopping wardrobe too. He wore some nice jeans and a blue button-up that enhanced his eyes.

I went from tomatoes to pears. One of my favorite snacks was dehydrated pears, and my dehydrator at home was prepped and ready to go.

Reed was getting bolder as we went. He pulled his cart next to mine and waited for the woman next to us to pass by. “Does your preference for red grapes mean you prefer red wine?” His tone was hushed and he didn’t look at me.

“Yes.” I focused on the pears.

“Good to know.” He moved on.

We played that game all through the produce section. It wasn’t a bad way to shop.

I moved on to the bakery while he hit the floral section. I got a series of texts. He had taken pictures of several different bouquets.

Which one do you like best?

I scrolled through my phone while I waited for the bakery to slice the multi-grain bread that was a fan favorite at our house. You don’t need to buy me flowers.

There you go being selfish again. Think of the bees and florists.

I laughed out loud to the stares of my fellow shoppers and bakery workers. I focused back on my phone. You choose. They were all lovely.

If I must. Meet me in greeting cards in five minutes.

Okay. I found his request to be odd, but I was rolling with it.

I took the five minutes to load up on milk. Cody could easily drink a gallon every two days. I also got eggs and cheese while I was at it, all before making my way to the greeting cards. I thought maybe he needed help picking one out, but I was learning not to underestimate this man. And yes, I saw him as a man.

Reed was standing at the end of the aisle thumbing through a magazine from the rack across from the cards. He was the only shopper there. He glanced up as I neared, but went back to his People magazine. I had to stop myself from laughing at the scene. Or smiling at the beautiful bouquet of red lilies, orange roses, and greenery. It was the one I loved the most out of all the pictures he had sent me.

“You should check out the Thinking of You section.” He continued to thumb through the magazine.

I did as directed. I swore I felt his eyes on me. I scanned the section and midway down found a pink envelope with my name on it. I gingerly reached for it, feeling like we were doing something wrong, but excited to see what it said. I opened the unsealed envelope and pulled out the vintage card with a little girl kissing a little boy on the cheek. I peeked a glance at Reed. His eyes were on me, all of me; his head flick said to continue.

My pulse raced as I opened the card and began to read what he wrote.

1. You look gorgeous tonight.

2. I’m going to hit the frozen food section next to cool off.

3. You’re going to have to give this card back to me so I can pay for it.

4. I forgot to tell you last night that I don’t pee on the toilet seat and I always put the seat down.

5. I only snore when I’m sick. You can’t hold that against me.

6. I think your kid is great, but he takes corners way too fast.

7. I want to kiss you again.

8. As soon as possible.

9. Like right now.

10. Go out with me this weekend so I can.

I was going to have to join him in the frozen foods section. I looked up and met his gaze with a smile on my face and a heart that was beating wildly out of control. My stomach was also doing something it hadn’t done in forever, flip-flopping with that new-infatuation sensation. I didn’t even know I could feel this way again. I nodded my acceptance of seeing him again without even thinking about any of the logistics of it. All I could think about was being in his arms.

His probing eyes said he knew he got to me. Did he ever. Grocery shopping would never be the same again.

~*~

I wore a permanent grin for the next few days, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

Gelaire certainly detected something while we ate lunch together on Tuesday. “Something you want to share, love?”

I pushed around the harvest salad I’d ordered. My appetite was gone, but it was in that good my-stomach-was-full-of-butterflies sort of way. Suddenly I was twenty again.

“No. Why?”

“I thought you would be upset after your run-in with Neil, but you seem—” She tossed her head from side to side, studying me. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

I shrugged, trying to brush off any hint there was anything different in my life. I had been on two dates, with one lined up. I wasn’t sure that was life changing, and I couldn’t tell anyone anyway. I focused on her son.

“I was at first, but he’s changed so much. I don’t even recognize him anymore.”

Gelaire’s brown eyes pooled with tears. “You’re moving on.”

I reached for her delicate hand across the table. “I’m trying and I have my moments, but I’ll never move on from you.”

She patted the top of my hand. “I want you to be happy, and I know it’s the best thing for you, but my son is so unhappy. I can see it in his eyes. I observed him while he tried to talk to Cody Sunday, and he’s miserable. He must have asked Cody how you were a dozen times during their strained conversation. And I’m abhorred by his appearance.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what has possessed him.”

“I do. It’s that vile woman. She wouldn’t even come in with him, not like she was welcome, but she’s not even trying to be a part of his life. She only wants him in hers. And it is a ridiculous life, unbefitting for a Higgins.” She steadied herself and dried her eyes. “I’m sorry to keep bringing him up in front of you. Tell me how your life is going. You look fabulous.”

I ran my fingers through my curls. “Not sure I feel that way, but thank you. I’m just busy doing the mom thing and work.”

“What about your Sidelined Wife project?”

“It’s going well. I’ve actually had a few marketing firms approach me about doing some merchandising. I’m not sure what to think about it.”

Gelaire’s left brow raised. “Well, that is certainly interesting and something to think about. I know you’ve talked about maybe the need to find a different career path. Perhaps this is it.”

I hadn’t even thought of it in that way. “Hmm. I don’t know if having the Sidelined Wife plastered on t-shirts and mugs is really a career.”

“You need to look at the bigger picture, love. Those are only the beginning. Have you thought about writing one of those motivational books? You could use your inspiring blog posts.”

“I don’t know how inspiring they are, and I can’t imagine people wanting to read an entire book of them. And really, who am I?” Not to quote the mean-girl moms. “Some people think I’m a bitter divorcee who has nothing better to do with her time than bash her ex.”

Though I rarely talked about him. Not to say he was happy about my Sunday post. Apparently he didn’t appreciate me telling the world about his boy-band persona and that he peed on the toilet seat. At least that’s what his angry text had indicated. I texted back that I didn’t like him sleeping around when we were married. I never heard back.

She waved her hand. “There will always be naysayers. Don’t let them get to you. You, through your humor and insights, are helping women cope with their own situations. It’s marvelous, just like you.” She reached over and tapped my nose. “Think about this, love.”

I sat back, letting her advice jostle around in my mind, seeing if anything took hold. It was a left-field idea for me, but . . . what if?