They say you shouldn’t grocery shop when you’re hungry.
That made after a Mom meal the perfect time for another trip to the Sherman Supermarket and cashier extraordinaire, Penny Cyzlinksi.
Besides, if I let my stockpile of Double Dark Chocolate Milano cookies dip much lower, I’d be in danger of running out in a month or two, prompting a Pepperidge Farm’s stock crash.
Mom, Dad, and I sat at the counter talking for a long time over that meal. I called it breakfast. Mom insisted it was brunch.
Tamantha ate with us, then took Shadow out in the back yard for training. She took this seriously, having read books and studied videos on the topic.
Shadow took it seriously, too, because it involved treats. Lots and lots of treats. As he’d become more social, his willingness to trade obedience for treats had skyrocketed. Or was that vice versa?
My conversation with my parents didn’t cover important topics, but was important for the companionship.
All in all, I felt mellow as I walked through the familiar automatic doors of the Sherman Supermarket.
Until Penny yelled at me, “Go. You got plenty of cookies. Go on, get out of here.”
I didn’t turn and flee before that oddest of greetings.
I’ve been told plenty of times to get out of someplace in my journalistic career. A few of those places I dearly wanted to get out of. I didn’t flee any of them. Wasn’t going to start with the Sherman Supermarket.
I stopped in the entry and stared at Penny, shooing me with both hands and — most remarkably — not talking at her checkout customer.
“What are you waiting for? She’s out there. Musta just missed her.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Know you don’t need them. You’re supplied, and not just cookies. She filled in around the cookies. Don’t come in here shopping when—”
Approaching from the service desk, the manager objected, “Penny, you can’t tell people not to shop.”
We both ignored the interruption.
“My mom filling my freezer? But—”
“—Love Me Tender. Right there if—”
Love Me Tender…
“—you get moving. Some things more important. Start bagging these groceries, boy. Now, what was I saying? Asparagus—”
“Thank you, Penny!”
I was already out the door. Clearing the front of the building, I spotted an older woman all in black closing the hatch of a venerable SUV — also black — on a collection of grocery bags. A glance through the front glass into the store showed the store manager — boy, in Penny speak — bagging, as ordered.
I left him to his fate and concentrated on the woman, jogging across the lot radiating the sun’s heat up through my shoes.
“Yvette! Hi! So nice to see you.”
She smiled tentatively at the lunatic running toward her.
“It’s Elizabeth. Elizabeth Margaret Danniher from KWMT-TV. We met at—” Darn, darn, darn. Couldn’t remember the couple’s names. And she still looked uncertain. “—at a wedding a while back. Leona D’Amato introduced us.”
All uncertainty evaporated. “Oh, yes. Leona’s little friend. How nice to see you.”
I had to be half a foot taller than her, but little friend I’d be.
“Yes. That’s me. Delighted to see you again.”
Her smile slipped as she looked into the SUV at the grocery bags occupying the cargo area.
Ice cream. I saw cartons in at least two bags. No time to waste on finesse.
“I’m so happy, too, to hear about you and Hiram Poppinger.” I ignored her mouth forming an O and a blush rising up her wrinkled neck. “He’s been quite the romantic courting you, hasn’t he? Something about a record…?”
She giggled, the blush still spreading. “He has been romantic. Never thought it of him. You know I love the music of the King?”
“I do remember that about you.”
“It’s what he doesn’t understand. Some call me obsessed, but it was never part of my thought to drive him into hiding and pretending he’s dead.” Ah. The topic was Elvis, not Hiram. “I’ve always loved his music too much to lose that, even if it meant sacrificing our ever being together.”
I shook my head in sorrow. “Shame that wasn’t clear to him.”
“I know. Now, perhaps he’ll understand, with me pledging to another man. Why, do you know Hiram made sure to call me and tell me he could not make our date the other night because he’d been arrested for murder? I call that gentlemanly.”
One of the top ten best excuses for missing a date. It also accounted for Hiram’s one call from jail.
“And yet the record…?” I nudged.
“He was so apologetic about that, but the deputies were quite stern and said he couldn’t retrieve anything from his truck to send to me. He’s promised to bring it to me as soon as he can.” She giggled. “He was excited at finding the record after I told him it was the only forty-five of the King’s lacking from my collection. It’s those little touches that matter, isn’t it? Knowing a man is thoughtful.”
She sighed gustily. “I do plan to love him tender. As soon as he’s out of jail.”