Was that Ben Cooper? It was.
“Fancy meeting you here.” Cat pushed her shopping cart closer as Ben looked up. He quickly set the box of Twinkies he’d been clutching back on the shelf. He looks like the cat caught eating the canary.
“I, uh,” he stammered. “I only eat those once in a while.”
She scrunched her cheeks in amusement. “I don’t have anything against Twinkies.” She glanced at his cart, which was filled with a decent number of fruits and vegetables, nary a junk food item in sight. Embarrassment flooded her at the legions of frozen dinners she’d chucked into her own cart.
“I hear they’re virtually indestructible,” Ben said, his face relaxing. “So perhaps they’re good to have in case of emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?”
“Oh, you know, plague, flood, nuclear annihilation, sugar cravings.”
She laughed.
Ben stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “What are you doing here in the middle of the day? I would think you’d be at your bookstore.”
“Mondays are my weekend.” At his confused expression, she clarified. “Saturday and Sunday are my busiest days. I close the Trove on Mondays so that I can get everything else done. You know, laundry, bills, grocery shopping.”
“Ah, makes sense.”
“It must be nice to be a professor.” She moved her cart so that others could get by. “Your schedule is much more flexible. And you get summers off.”
Ben ran his fingers through his hair. It made the front stand up in an adorable fashion. She was oddly sad when he brushed it right back down. “Kind of. You’re right that I choose my hours to some degree. But I spent the last seven years working toward tenure, which in reality meant very little free time; most of my waking hours I spent in the lab doing research, or writing papers. When I wasn’t teaching, that was.”
She made a sympathetic noise. “Oh. I never thought of it that way. I always envied professors, thinking they had the easy life.”
Something like a snort came out of his nose. “Tell that to my family, who always complain I’m never around. It’s getting better, though. Now that I’m a tenured professor, I expect by next year to be sitting on a private island sipping frozen drinks, while my teaching assistant does all my grunt work back here.”
“Can I join you?”
His face took on a peculiar expression. “You and me alone on a deserted island?”
“You never said anything about deserted. Besides, if we load up on Twinkies before we go, we won’t have to worry about food spoiling, right?”
“Excuse me,” came a voice from behind her. “I’m trying to get to the Hostess cupcakes.”
“Oh, sorry.” Cat pulled her cart out to the end of the aisle.
Ben followed her. “Who knew there’d be traffic jams in Giant at 11:30 on a Monday morning?” he joked.
“Ugh, now I’m near the fish.” Cat pinched her nose. “I can’t stand seafood.”
“Me either.” He took off with his cart toward the frozen food section, and she chased after him, laughing. “There, that’s better,” he said. “Nothing here but the smell of ... cold.”
“You do realize you’ve stopped in front of the frozen fish section, right?”
He whirled around. “Ah. So I did. At least we can’t smell it, however.”
“Whoever thought of eating crab and lobster, to begin with? Look, a creature with its own armor and pincers that can hurt. Let’s eat it!”
He chuckled. “I’m guessing someone who was very, very hungry. If I were a contestant on Survivor and it came down to starvation or squid, I’d go for the squid.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose.” She paused for a moment, setting her finger against her lips.
“What?”
“I was debating whether in times of emergency, as you said, I’d rather eat clams or mushrooms.”
“Mushrooms? Ick. Fungus.”
Cat widened her eyes, a grin spreading across her whole face. “My thoughts exactly. Tell that to Eliza the next time she wants a pepperoni and mushroom pizza. Who eats fungus?”
“How do you feel about beets?”
She stuck her tongue out. “Eww. Disgusting.”
“I agree. They rank lower than squid and fungus for me. When I was a kid, my uncle bet me ten dollars I couldn’t eat one slice of canned beets.”
When he didn’t continue, she prompted him. “And?”
“Oh, I ate it. It just didn’t stay down. And my uncle reneged on the bet, saying my ‘reversal of fortune’ meant I hadn’t succeeded.”
She stomped in mock indignation. “That’s unfair.”
“Yes, so I remind him every time I see him. In my view, he still owes me ten bucks.”
“I agree.”
There was a pause after their chuckling died down. This was a natural point at which to part ways. She had other errands to run. Surely he did, too. “Well, at least if you and I ever were to eat together, we have similar tastes,” she blurted out.
Ben glanced at his watch.
Guilt nipped at her for holding him up. “Sorry,” she began before he cut her off.
“How about right now? Wanna grab lunch? Chili’s is right over there and I’m hungry now that I’ve deprived myself of my Twinkies.” His words came out in a rush. “I wanted to ask you about your computer, anyway.”
She hesitated. Was he asking her out on a date? She wasn’t sure. For one thing, he was talking about her computer. Not exactly flirtatious banter. For another, it was a last minute offer. Maybe he felt obligated, given their conversation. And thirdly, he had a girlfriend. At least she thought so.
Maybe Eliza was right and she should ask him. But that would be awkward either way. If he hadn’t meant it as a date, she’d be mortified that she’d assumed it was. If it were a date, she didn’t quite know how she felt about that, either. On the one hand, she really enjoyed this Ben Cooper, from what she knew of him. He felt comfortable, familiar. On the other, that’s exactly why he was a bit scary. She’d rather not think of things in terms of dating or not. Wasn’t it much more pleasant just to enjoy someone’s company?
“Um, sure. But I’ve got all this stuff in my cart.”
He glanced down at the frozen dinners. “No problem. We’re in the right place.” He scanned the aisle, looking for the low-cal meals. “Here, I’ll help.”
She giggled as he started pulling items out of her cart and sticking them back in the freezers. She scooted around to the front of her cart to help him. “Let’s make it a race. Last one with a box buys dessert.” She threw him a wink.
“You’re on,” he called, reaching for several more boxes. “Only you’ve got me at a disadvantage.” He whipped open another freezer door, searching for the proper spot.
“What’s that?”
“You know where you originally got all of these.”
A minute later, they were done, Cat claiming victory. She laughed out loud, her breath fast from the exhilaration of their goofy game. Other shoppers shot them disapproving glances, but she didn’t care.
Ben gave her a formal bow. “I concede. ‘Twas a noble fight, but you outfoxed me.”
“I cheated,” she admitted. “I knew I had five baked zitis in there. I grabbed them all at once.”
“A general never reveals her wartime strategy.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” She gave him a mock salute.
He walked back over and retrieved his own cart. “Hey, let me get these few things, okay? They’ll keep fine in the car. I’ll meet you over there.”
“No problem.” She pushed her own now-empty cart to the front. She didn’t even mind that she’d have to come back and get her groceries later. She couldn’t deny the jauntiness in her step as she left for the restaurant. Bantering with Ben Cooper was fun.
A few minutes later, he slid into the booth across from her. “Hope that wasn’t too long.”
“No, no, you’re good. I was debating what I wanted. I’m thinking a salad.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What kind of lunch is that? Go for the nachos!”
She took a sip of her ice water, the corners of her mouth turning up as she did so. “Nachos and Twinkies. The foods of the gods.”
“Darn right,” he said. “At least once in a while.”
“Fine. I’ll eat one or two of yours if you’ll share. But I still want a salad.”
“Deal.”
After they ordered, Ben sat forward. “How’s your Internet working? Any more problems?”
“You mean since my cat tried to derail the biggest sale we’ve ever had? Nope. It’s working like a charm.” Was that disappointment on his face?
“Good, good.” He paused. “Do you guys have wi-fi?”
Cat swirled her straw in her glass. “Um, upstairs, yeah. Eliza set that up. I don’t get how all of that stuff works.”
“But not in the store?”
“No.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”
“I was thinking it might draw people in. You know, like the coffee idea. More and more places offer free wi-fi because they know people want to be on their gadgets.”
“I run a bookstore, not a computer store.”
“I know.” He held his hands up. “It was only an idea.”
“Would it cost extra?”
“Nope. You already have Internet. I could come over and help install a router if you’d like.”
“Hmm. Eliza probably would like being able to work on her laptop while she’s downstairs.”
The waitress brought their nachos. Ben dug in with gusto, which tickled Cat for some reason. “I guess you do like nachos.”
“Sorry.” He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “I didn’t eat breakfast, so I’m super hungry.”
“For shame, Mr. Cooper. They say that’s the most important meal of the day.”
“Who’s this ‘they’ that everybody always refers to? I’d like to know who invested ‘them’ with such power?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. Anyway, yes to the router, if you have the time.” She set a nacho on her plate. They did look good.
“Sure. I’m busy most of tomorrow, but could come by in the evening if you’d like.” He scooped up another nacho and popped it in his mouth.
“Ooh, no, sorry. Tomorrow night’s our first open mic Poetry Night.” She rested her arms on the table and leaned in. “Wanna come?”
He stopped mid-bite. He shook his head. After he’d finished his mouthful, he said, “I’m, uh, not exactly the poetry type. Too emotive for me.”
She gave him a cheeky grin. “Not even limericks?”
“Haha. Limericks, maybe. But ask me to go much beyond ‘Roses are red, violets are blue,’ and you’ll quickly learn, that, uh, er ...” He paused. “Well, you’ll learn I’m not a poet. As evidenced by my lame construction of that simple sentence.”
Cat speared a piece of lettuce from the Caesar salad the waitress had just brought. “I can’t look at you right now,” she teased before taking a bite, throwing her nose up in the air.
“Okay, fine.” He took a breath, looking her square in the eye. “How about this:
“Seafood’s disgusting. Mushrooms are eww.
I’d rather have Twinkies. Nachos, too.”
His eyes sparkled in merriment as he finished his impromptu poem. If the word could be applied to the travesty, that was. She brought her napkin to her mouth to cover it while she laughed. He was a riot.
“Thank you for interrupting me from grocery shopping,” she said after a moment. “It’s my least favorite chore.”
“And here I was thinking you were going to resent me because now you have to go back.”
She waved a hand. “More excuses to order pizza. Eliza will thank you.”
He settled back in the booth, having polished off his nachos. “Why don’t you like grocery shopping?”
She hadn’t expected such a direct question, though she should have, considering she’s the one who brought up the topic. “Um,” she said, fumbling. “To be honest, it’s lonely. I’m buying for one. Sometimes two, if I’m getting stuff for Eliza, too. But mostly I watch moms with babies, or couples flirting over which kind of cereal to buy, or see girls around the same age as my nieces, and it makes me feel alone. More alone than I feel about anywhere else.”
He studied her for a moment. “That makes sense.” He sat up, taking a sip of his iced tea. “Where are your nieces? Local?”
“No. Ohio. My sister Marie and her husband live there. My mom moved there a few years ago, too.”
“That must be hard. My parents live in Fredericksburg, but that’s only ninety minutes away. And my sister is local.”
“You’re lucky.”
“Ever thought about moving?”
She winced. “I have. But then I’d have to give up the bookstore. It’s ... well, it’s one of the last links I have to my dad. At least it feels like that.” After a pause, she added, “And I don’t want to give it up. Most of the time, at least. I love it. Walking into the main room, with the wood and the fireplace and all those books, soothes me every time.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Does that sound weird?”
“Not to me. I’m peculiar about my spaces, too.”
“Peculiar. Not a word people generally want ascribed to them.”
Ben shifted in the booth. “That’s not what I meant.”
She laughed lightly. “Teasing.” She nodded in thanks as the waitress refilled her ice water. “So, what brought you to Charlottesville? Or did you grow up here?”
“Nah, Fredericksburg. Nice town. Of course, the last place I wanted to be when I finished high school was in Virginia, so I headed to MIT for undergrad, then Carnegie Mellon for grad school.”
“Holy cow. You must be brilliant. Even I know those are some of the top schools for computer science.”
Ben looked down at his plate, but he couldn’t hide the color spreading across his cheeks. “I don’t know about that. Regardless, by the time I finished grad school, I was longing to be closer to home again. I got lucky when I got the position at UVa.”
“Sounds more to me like they’re lucky to have you.”
He chuckled. “You’re good for a man’s ego, Catherine Schreiber. I can tell you that.”
“Just giving credit where credit is due. So tell me more about your time here.”
They lapsed into easy conversation, talking about favorite places in Charlottesville. He was fond of Jefferson’s gardens on the UVa grounds; she confessed she enjoyed sitting on the downtown pedestrian mall to people-watch when she got a chance. They talked about good places to eat, movies they liked—The Princess Bride was a mutual favorite—books they didn’t—why was Moby Dick so highly rated?
At one point, his phone beeped. He pulled it out, checked the screen, and frowned. “I have to go,” he said as he tucked the phone back in his jeans pocket. “I didn’t realize it was already 2:00. That was a colleague, saying I have a line outside my office. I’m supposed to be there for office hours.” He waved the waitress over and asked for the checks.
“It’s 2:00?” Where had the time gone?
“Yeah. I took up much of your free day. I’m sorry.”
“Nah, this was fun. Much better than wrestling with the dreaded checkbook.”
He stood up. “Do you want me to get this?” He gestured toward the bill.
“No, don’t be silly. I can afford a salad.” Eliza would say if he offered to pay, it was a date. Cat was certain, however, he’d only offered because she’d stupidly referenced her checkbook.
She pulled out her credit card and set it on the table.
“Thanks for a delightful afternoon.”
“It was. And I have a dinner date this evening. Talk about feeling spoiled.”
Okay. Definitely not a date. He’s going out with someone tonight. Her mind pictured the redhead she’d seen him with before. You could ask him about her. The slightest of frowns crossed her brow before she smoothed her face into a pleasant smile. Not on your life.
“Business?” she heard herself say. She cringed inwardly. What happened to not asking?
“No, thank goodness. Going to the American Shakespeare Center in Staunton, actually. I can’t wait.”
She stood up, using the excuse of leaning over to get her purse to hide her face from him. She knew it had to reflect the disappointment coursing through her.
“I’m free Thursday morning. Shall I stop by then?”
Clearly, he hadn’t noticed. Good. “Sounds great.”
He flashed a broad smile at her. “I had a great time, Cat.”
“Me, too.” She walked out ahead of him, squaring her shoulders.
“See you!” he called as he drifted off toward his car. “You, too.”
You, too, her head echoed. ‘Mushrooms are eww.’