Groceries

Jessica

The bus pulls up, and the driver smiles at me when he sees how much my mood has changed. I am downright happy! No! Ecstatic! “I take it you had a change of luck?” he asks me as I climb the steps, not hiding my glee. 

I smile back,” Yes, I start my new job tonight.” I say proudly. 

 He nods approvingly at me, and I drop my money in the toll as I walk to a seat and begin scrolling on my phone, applying for multiple credit cards. I will not falter on my promise; the kitchen will be fully stocked when Julie gets home, but between my student loan debt and the many credit cards already in past due balance, I am only approved for five hundred dollars, but this is enough. 

I don’t care what I must do tonight; I will make great tips and begin paying down the debt I have accumulated. This is the start of a new life. 

I break the heel off my other shoe so they match, but I hope to buy flip-flops when I shop. 

The bus approaches the street where the grocery store is located, and I pull the string, making it stop. The driver waves goodbye to me, and I hop off, walking the few blocks to the grocery store.  I inhale deeply as I enter the automatic doors; the smell of food is overwhelming, and I am STARVING.

I walk over to the deli area and grab a sandwich, tearing open the packaging like a savage. I take a bite quickly, barely tasting the expensive deli turkey within, but I need sustenance, not taste. I take a few more bites, and my stomach begins to settle, and I chew more appropriately now as I walk through the aisles filling the cart with everything we need.

I know eating before paying will be considered frowned upon, but I don’t care. I will buy all of this and more.  I see a pair of flip-flops in the novelty section and place them inside the cart too. They even have beautiful white flowers on them- my luck is finally changing. 

I buy more things I can cook at home, like crockpot meals. But truth be told, I don’t know how to cook that well. Julie was right- Mom made home-cooked meals every night, but I was always too busy studying to learn how to make them myself.

Then I went away to college, and I rarely had time to cook. College is even more intense than high school, especially pre-med. My roommate and I utilized the crockpot in our room and a hot plate, but we mainly ate all processed food or went out to restaurants when we had the time.

The cart is filled with food, and I try to keep track in my head as I place each item in the basket; $450 is what my count is now, and I go to the register, placing the items on the register belt.

“Good afternoon; how is your day?” The cashier asks in a cheerful- high-pitched voice. 

I smile, “It’s great. I just got a new job. Everything is great,” I beam, but that is a lie. Not everything is great, but she doesn’t need to know my life story. I already shared my parent’s death with Mike today- it’s an unsettling topic. 

I watch her bag each item, and since I got approved for this credit card, I am going to splurge and call a taxi service; carrying this much stuff home on the bus will be impossible. 

“$453.93,” she says, smiling, and I pull out my phone, letting her scan the barcode to my new card.

The register beeps, and she takes a breath, “Uhm, it says it’s denied,” her voice is sympathetic, but she looks at me with a serious face. “Do you have another one you want to try?”

I shake my head, pulling up the phone screen again, “No! Look, it says right there that it’s APPROVED. SEE!?” I say, handing her my phone.

“You’re right. It does, but it takes forty-eight hours for it to be usable. You didn’t read the fine print, did you?” her voice is snarky, and I want to punch her. 

My mouth gapes, and a baby cries behind me; shit, there’s a line.

My eyes begin to fill with tears as I look at the failure that’s being displayed for the whole store to see; I can’t even feed my siblings, and I feel like everyone is judging me. This is a nightmare.

“Here, use this,” A familiar voice comes from behind me.  His arm comes in front of my face as he hands the cashier his card. The cashier smiles widely as she looks at the mystery man who is taking pity on me and buying all of my groceries. I owe this man so much, but I am also so embarrassed.  I take a deep breath and turn to face him; I have to thank him. I am desperate and not too proud to accept help at this time- we need it.

“Sure, Mr. Ricci, No problem.” She says, puffing up her cleavage, trying to impress this man.

But my mouth gapes, and I hold in my gasp as my eyes set on him- It’s Marshmallow Damon. I want to say thank you, but the words won’t come out. Why is he here?! Why is he doing this?! The card machine beeps, and the cashier hands him back his card, smiling like an idiot. 

“Approved,” she chuckles, but he says nothing. 

“Jessica, show me to your car. I’ll help load you up,” Damon says, looking at me, but I still can’t speak as I gather the grocery bags and head toward the parking lot. My heart is racing when we get outside, but I don’t know what to say. Damon gave me a job out of pity, and now he’s paying for my groceries. I barely know the man, and he’s also my boss.

“Jessica, your car?” he says again, his voice more annoyed.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“What?” he says, and I turn around.

“Thank you,” I say a little louder, plastering a smile on my face. “Thank you for the job and for the groceries, but I don’t have a car. You have done enough. I’ll figure out how to get home.”

Damon stares at all the bags and then at me, “No, I will drive you home.”

“No, that’s okay,” I protest, but his eyes narrow, and he shakes his head.

“This isn’t up for debate, Jessica! I will drive you home. There is no way you can get all of this on the bus by yourself, and I am sure as hell not riding it.”

I sigh in defeat and follow him toward his car. It’s a black Bently and he opens the trunk for my many bags. We place them all inside and I open the car door, “What’s your address?” he asks as I sit in the passenger seat.

“455 Milky Lane,” I say, looking down. He nods and starts the car, but my phone rings, and I sigh as I look at the caller ID; it’s the school.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Sanders, we need you here immediately. Julie has been in a fight and is hurt!” 

“HURT!?” I gasp, and Damon looks at me.

“Yes, you need to take her to the hospital; she needs stitches.”

“STITCHES!?” I gasp as I listen to the rest of what she is telling me. 

Damon can hear the entire conversation and sighs as he looks at me, “Bravely Charter School?” He asks, and I nod as he puts the car in drive.

How can this get any more embarrassing?

“Oh,” he says casually, reaching into his pocket and pulling out my red lacy thong. “Mikey had these, but I took them back. I was going to give them back to you tonight, but there’s no time like the present,” he says, smirking, dropping them in my lap.

Oh, I guess it can.