Page 64 of Mob Princess

19

Bonnie

The hustleand bustle of the grocery store was almost foreign to me.

It wasn’t often I set foot into a place like this. A place that was so brazenly filled with people and ripe with risk. But, the delivery times for food were backed up for five solid hours, and we didn’t have anything to cook for lunch. So, with a grocery trip out to restock on some items came the fulfillment of the promise Israel and I made to each other.

And since I was going out, so was he.

Every once in awhile though, I stole a glance at him. I peeked over my shoulder at him and watched as he turned apples around in his hands. I saw him pick up an avocado and smell it before trying to thump it, like a melon. And it took all the energy in me to not laugh at him. Clearly, he wasn’t in his element. He had no idea how to check to make sure produce was fresh, nor did he know where the expiration dates on any of the meats were. If it hadn’t been slowing me down so badly in the store, it wouldn’t been endearing. But, the way Israel lagged behind gave me the sense that he knew trouble was about, which forced me to pay attention more to the people around me instead of the food.

And that meant spending longer in this place than I wanted.

I pointed to the cantaloupe. “Are you a melon fan?”

Israel studied the head of broccoli not far from me. “Not particularly.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

He wrinkled his nose. “When I was a child, yes.”

“Is it a texture thing, or…?”

He grinned. “If you want cantaloupe, get it for yourself. I just won’t eat any of it.”

“Well, I was thinking about making this ice cream Mom used to make for me when I was really little. I remember the recipe like it was yesterday, though.”

I felt him staring at me. “What kind of ice cream?”

I smiled, picking up the cantaloupe. “Cantarum cream is what she called it. She cooked down the cantaloupe with some coconut rum, then pureed the mixture, and used it in a basic ice cream recipe. My God, that stuff was outstanding.”

I felt his hand on the small of my back. “We’ll get the ingredients for it today, then.”

I smiled up at him. “Really?”

“Really, really.”

“Yes! Okay. You're going to love it. Seriously. I’m going to go find a few other things we’ll need and I’ll be back. Okay?”

“Just watch out. Keep an eye on your surroundings at all times.”

“Like you taught me, yes.”

He patted my back. “Good girl. You’ve got fifteen minutes before I come looking for you.”

I nodded. “I won’t take a smidge over ten. I promise.”

I placed the cantaloupe in the cart as he chuckled and I took off. I knew exactly what we needed, and the idea of sharing this small moment from my childhood with Israel tickled me with delight. It was one of the handful of memories I remembered about my parents. And for me, it was almost as if I was introducing Israel to them.

“Come on, where the hell are you?” I murmured to myself. I searched the sugar for a very specific kind before my eyes dropped to the bottom shelf. “Aha! There you are. Come to mama.”

I bent down to pick up the sugar, and the next thing I knew, I couldn't see. I tried to draw in a deep breath, but all I got was a mouth full of cotton. I felt my body being lifted from the floor, and I kicked my legs out, listening as the sugar went tumbling to the floor.

“What the—Is—!”

A hand clamped over my mouth and I felt myself moving. I tried to get my feet to touch the floor, but I was much too high in the air. I wiggled around, trying my best to slither away from the person who had blocked off my ability to scream or see. And as I stumbled around, trying to catch my footing, I heard a door slam open.

Before it closed behind us.

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