Page 163 of Callan

I’ve only walked once into this store before. There’s also a bakery and a section of freshly prepared food.

Lucky me.

I peruse the fresh veggies and put stuff in my shopping basket. Red bell pepper, tomatoes, apples, and grapes.

I pick up a loaf of bread, cheese, smoked fish, olives, and pickles.

At the bakery, I ask for a hazelnut cake.

My mouth waters as I check everything I’ve placed into my shopping basket. At the freshly cooked food section, I buy a cup of basil tomato soups and croutons.

I somewhat forget about what happened this afternoon as I lift my shopping basket and try to make my way to the register.

My eyes still move over a large variety of dome-shaped boxes of panettone sitting on a shelf when a nagging feeling jabs at my awareness.

I drag my eyes around the store, checking the people inside.

An older lady, a father and a son, and two women about my age catch my attention, but none of them make me suspicious.

Following the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans, I move away from the aisle and head to the front of the store.

The pitter-pattering of my heart stubbornly persists.

A few people are clumped together at the cash registers.

Luckily, both of them are open, and when the people in front of me step away and a man becomes visible, my jaw falls.

How could I not recognize him?

He wears the coat he had on an hour ago when we made the trip back from Long Island.

Busy paying for his coffee, he doesn’t notice me until he exchanges a few words with the woman across the counter, and picks up his drink.

My heart beats fast.

What isCallandoing here?

Obviously, he’s buying a cup of coffee, but what are the fucking chances?

I thought he’d go back to his home. Or someone else’s place.

Panicked, I look over my shoulder.

It’s too late to move away without drawing his eyes to me.

Plus, a man and a woman are in line behind me, waiting.

I sweat.

How do I make myself scarce?

And will this be one of those awkward moments when two people bump into each other and would rather be anywhere but in the space they’re sadly sharing?

Or, worse.

What if he gives me a suspicious look, thinking I have followed him here?

Although, he wasn’t in the store when I walked in.

---