EVERY SATURDAY
8AM-12PM
Well, that at least explained the dispersing crowd.
Glancing at the dash, I noted that the time was around three in the afternoon, so the farmer’s market was long over. I wanted to get something for Lily, Brett’s wife, as a thanks for allowing me to stay with them for a short time. The market would have been a great place, now I’d have to find something, and fast.
Luck must have been on my side because a sign for Chuck’s Grocery Store stood out like a beacon in the middle of a hurricane.
Pulling my truck into the lot, I parked a good distance from the entrance, not that the parking lot was huge. There were only a handful of other vehicles in the lot, one being a little red car parked across from me a lane over.
Approaching the store, I gave myself a pep talk and tried to remember that this was not the big city. Things were going to be different. Not bad, but different.
I passed by the shopping cart area and paused a few feet inside the store. There weren’t many aisles to choose from, but there was a decent floral area and from what I could tell, a remarkable bakery section. The scent of fresh bread and chocolate had my stomach growling the second the smells wafted across my nose.
Immediately, my body began moving toward the intoxicating fragrance on its own accord. I was just a passenger along for the ride. My feet were moving and before I knew it, I was standing in front of the bakery stand without any knowledge of how I’d come to be there.
“Can I help you, sir?”
There were so many choices. More than I’d ever seen at a small grocery store, which New York had plenty of. The options were endless. Breads, cakes, and pies. I wanted it all.
“I don’t suppose you know which dessert Lily Chisolm likes the best, do you?”
“Well, now. You must be the hockey player coming to stay with her and Mr. Chisolm,” the older lady said with a sweet southern drawl. She had kind eyes that reminded me of a grandmother. The type you’d see in the movies since I’d never had one myself.
“Apparently word gets around.”
She had the decency to laugh as her cheeks reddened. Those same kind eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Sorry, ma’am,” I said. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just been a long drive.”
“It’s nothing, young man. I apologize for saying it out loud. You’re pretty popular around these parts. Coach’s protégé and all that jazz. We’re just excited to have you in our town.
“Now, to answer your question. Mrs. Lily likes anything with custard or cherries. I have a Boston cream pie that she would absolutely love. If you want to look around the store, I’ll get that all set up for you in a few minutes.”
“Thank you. . .”
“You can call me Betsy.”
“Well, Betsy, I’m sure you’ll be seeing me plenty. Got to find a way to stay on Lily’s good side while I overcrowd their home.”
She laughed genuinely that time. Those eyes crinkling at the corners, the valleys growing deeper with time. “Well, you’re absolutely headed in the right direction.”
Leaving the bakery stand, I searched around for a bathroom to clean myself up a bit after the long drive. I was surprised to find it immaculately tidy. I’m not sure why I expected anything different. The entire store was neat and polished from top to bottom. The owner must have taken great pride in his business.
Something I understood.
When I finished, I took a few minutes to walk around the store, watching a few people grab their canned goods and local meats. A magazine rack near the entrance caught my eye and I glanced over the selections. They were over a week old, except for the hottest tabloid fodder.
Quickly, I grabbed a copy and scoured through the pages. I wasn’t front news anymore since my ex, Nina, sank her claws into someone else and she settled the lawsuit I had against her, but when it was a slow news week in the sports world something about me always popped up.
It was times like that I was glad I didn’t know my parents. I’d hate to know the embarrassment I would have caused them, even though none of it was my fault. I would have disgraced them either way.
I returned the magazine back to the rack when a couple started ushering their brood over to the single register. Moseying back to the entrance, I stopped at the floral stand.
Flowers were always a nice gesture. But I was completely overwhelmed as I took in the selection.
Maybe just a pie would be fine.
