Page 34 of Something Good
But this felt different. I was pretty sure my mom had been on government assistance most of our lives. There’d been years when the only place we’d eaten was at school. That was assuming Mom had remembered to fill out the paperwork for free lunch. The years she forgot the paperwork, we ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches the lunch ladies snuck us on the side.
This was different though. This was nowmyresponsibility. It was crossing a line into a reality I hadn’t fully accepted until now. It felt like a plot point that would forever change the course of our lives.
I took a breath and went in.
The cool air sent goosebumps skating along my overheated skin, and I sighed in relief. The space was small but surprisinglywell-lit. On the left side of the room were shelves containing boxes and cans. Across from us were a couple of baskets of fresh produce, and on the wall to the right were three beat-up refrigerators with cheerful magnets declaringYou are lovedandGod loves ALL members of his flock.
A petite woman in a purple First Lutheran T-shirt with dark hair that framed her round face came bustling through the door opposite us. She wore a cheerful smile and her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled in welcome. “How can I help you, boys?” Her tone was bright. She reminded me of the school secretary fromFerris Bueller’s Day Off.
“We, um, need some food.”
Her smile faltered, her eyebrows rising in concern. “Honey, how old are you? Where are your parents?”
Fear flashed through me, but I squashed it and lifted my chin. “I’m eighteen.”
“Relax, hon. You’re not in trouble. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
“We’re fine. We just need some food.”
“Okay. I just need you to fill out some paperwork.”
Fear escalated into panic. I didn’t want someone to decide I couldn’t handle this and turn us into the state. I didn’t want someone to take Jimmy.
“Listen, our dad is on disability and doesn’t get around very well, and our mom is at work.” I heard Jimmy’s intake of breath at the blatant lie, but thankfully, he remained quiet otherwise. “Can we just get a few things without filling out any papers? Our mom gets paid on Friday, and we just need to get through until then.”
Her face softened. “Okay, honey. We can skip the paperwork today.”
She led us to the shelves first, handing us some paper bags to fill with nonperishables. We continued to move our way aroundto produce and the refrigerated items, taking as much as we could fit into two bags each. I was pretty sure she figured out I had lied about how much food we actually needed, but she didn’t question it further.
Twenty minutes later, we had each filled our bags and headed out the door back into the sweltering heat. I needed to get home to prepare for my evening shift that started in an hour. We were halfway across the parking lot when I spotted someone making their way toward us. For the second time that afternoon, my pulse spiked in panic. I hadn’t seen her in seven years, but I’d still recognize her anywhere. Wearing the same purple T-shirt as the lady inside the food pantry, Mrs. Hartley—I guessed her name was Johnson now—was heading right toward us, and there was nowhere to hide.
“Sammy? Jimmy? Is that you?” Her voice was warm as she greeted us, her mouth stretching into a wide smile. I’d always wished that if I could have had any other mother, it would have been someone like her.
Now, though, with my…relationship with Will that I was pretty sure she didn’t know about, and my home life situation, I would really have rather not had this little reunion at this particular moment in this particular place.
“Hi, Mrs. Johnson.” She looked like she wanted to hug me, but my hands were full, and I could see her connecting the dots regarding the circumstances that had brought us here. She settled for an awkward shoulder squeeze as her blue eyes, so like Will’s, darted between us. There were questions there that I wasn’t prepared to answer.
“I think after all these years, you can call me Olivia.”
I nodded, unsure what else to say, wanting desperately to flee but not wanting to be rude.
“How are you, boys? How’s your mom?”
“We’re good.” I shifted on my feet. “I’m sorry, but we have to go. I have to get to work.”
“Oh, of course. Don’t let me keep you. It was good to see you boys!”
“Thanks. Um, you too.”
Jimmy and I fled, walking as fast as we could, considering our bags were loaded with food. By the time we got home, I had just enough time to shower before heading to work, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the look in her eyes when she realized why we were there.
17
WILL
My Jeep was parked midway downone aisle in the Walmart parking lot. I’d killed the engine, had the windows down, and was angled so I could keep my eyes on the door for Sammy. Without a breeze, the sticky, humid air was stifling, causing my shirt to stick to my back and sweat to trickle down my neck. I didn’t need to check the weather app to know we were in for thunderstorms tonight. I could smell it in the air.
It was one of the reasons I was here tonight. I didn’t want Sammy to walk home in what would surely be a textbook midwestern thunderstorm. But even more pressing than that, I wanted to talk to him about what I’d learned from my mom tonight.
