I wandered through Papa's grocery store, lost in thought as I scanned the shelves for ingredients for tonight's dinner. I could really go for some steak. Andy, the owner, watched me cautiously through his newspaper as I stepped into the store. There was a time when we exchanged friendly banter and joked about getting my recipes for pies, now he'd grown with age, probably in his mid-fifties and weary about my sudden appearance in his store.
"I'll be out before you know it." I said.
Andy doesn't respond but I pick up a basket and searched the aisle for some herbs after I'd gotten frozen steak. Suddenly, a familiar face caught my attention. Easton stood a few feet away, his eyes fixed on me with an unmistakable glare.
Oh joy.
My heart raced as I approached him, my cart rattling on the floor. "Easton," I said, while keeping voice neutral.
