The quick trip turned into a frustrating experience. After grabbing a few staples he was running out of, he tried to find something in the fresh department that looked appetizing. He should be eating more fruits and veggies; garnishes at the taco truck weren't going to cut it. Especially if he was getting depressed, as seemed likely, he needed to try to avoid the "nothing but junk food" diet.
However, the apples looked like polished plastic, the lettuce was priced way too high for the quality it appeared to be, and in the mood he was in, nothing looked both fit to eat and reasonably priced. Maybe he was being picky. But he couldn't take limp lettuce and expensive prices, not both on the same day, when he was in a shitty mood anyway.
He left without buying even an avocado and headed towards the farmer's market in the middle of town, all the while debating with himself whether it was worth it or not. The farmer's market would be annoyingly crowded, and he'd have to pay for parking, but it tended to have fresh things and good prices.
Unless I park somewhere for free and walk a mile or so there and back. He thought about that. It certainly wouldn't hurt him to walk. It might even brighten his mood. But he'd have to limit purchases to anything he could carry back. Then again, he was one man — how much fresh produce could he use before it spoiled? Probably not more than he could carry.
But he was also a grown man who could afford to pay for a parking meter. He was just being cheap, wasn't he? Tomas gritted his teeth, annoyed at the internal debate and uncertainty consuming him. It didn't matter; he could do whatever he wanted, and neither choice was fraught with any weight. He just couldn't decide what he wanted to do.
Stuck in traffic, he noticed a familiar figure walking along the side of the road, looking skinny and underdressed in a hoodie, hands shoved in his pockets. It was the waiter, the guy who'd spilled coffee on the gossips. On impulse, Tomas rolled down the passenger's side window and leaned nearer, waving. If he'd thought about it for even five seconds, he wouldn't have.
"Hi! Need a lift? I'm heading toward the market, so the middle of town."
The guy's face, first startled and wary, went through a rapid shift to shining with a smile, as if he couldn't believe his good luck. "I'm heading there, too! You sure you don't mind?" He walked up to the car and looked through the window, ducking his head a little, his smile shy and pleased.
"Yeah, it's cool. Get in if you want to. No pressure, though." Tomas wouldn't want to come across as creepy — and if that had occurred to him first of all, he would have kept his mouth shut.
The guy got into the car, looking small and delicate in the space that Riley usually filled when they drove somewhere together. The waiter had soft-looking, wavy brown hair and pale skin, his cheeks a bit wind-burned. He was probably younger than Tomas, but it wasn't easy to guess his age. His jeans had holes in them and looked worn soft from years of use. They weren't quite in the current style. He seemed to be wearing only a t-shirt and hoodie otherwise.
"You're warm enough walking, dressed like that?"
The waiter shrugged. "I get warm when I'm moving." He gave Tomas another shy smile. "Hey. Thanks for the lift."
Tomas would definitely be parking. "Sure. No problem. Sorry if I startled you. I didn't think."
"Oh, that's all right. I'm afraid I don't know your name, although I'd recognize your face anywhere."
"Uh, Tomas. Quiróz. You are...?"
"Auden Benstraum."
"Hi, Auden."
"Hi, Tomas." His smile was cute and shyer than ever. Tomas wondered if he liked tacos. Then he wondered why he would think about that just now.
Tomas guessed that Auden had parked far away and decided to save the money and walk, although, since they had farther than a mile yet to go, that might not be the case. Perhaps he lived within walking distance, as long as you considered several miles away on foot on a cold winter's morning walking distance.
Tomas reminded himself that he was getting a little soft in his old age. When he was a teenager, he'd have jumped at the chance to get out of the house for a several-mile walk on the weekend, even if only grocery shopping was at the end of it. Of course the alternative was a lot of chores, and possibly trying to stay as invisible as possible while there was yet another fight about his older brother's behavior.
Diego had turned himself around pretty well his senior year, but there had been a lot of drama and tension and ugly fighting before that happened. His parents were appalled that he would let the family down that way; his grandparents were livid. Of course they considered any failure a horrible thing, much less actually transgressive behavior.
Their tough standards had a cost. Tomas got quiet and meek and tried harder, or else disappeared into a book, and he always felt like shit when he was less than perfect in any way. Diego just got more rebellious, since nothing he ever did was going to be right anyway.
Hard times. Tomas liked remembering the good ones better. Like the last time they'd all gotten together for a big meal and some time together, everyone laughing and enjoying the good food and Diego's two little daughters. Diego had grown into a fine family man, a little rough around the edges, but an amazing husband and father — the kind of guy you were proud to have as a brother. He wore his heart on his sleeve for his family, would protect them with his life. He loved his job, his hobbies, and the life he'd carved out for himself. He'd come so far without changing who he essentially was. Tomas was proud of him. He wished sometimes that he lived with half as much gusto.
"It was nice of you to offer," Auden said, squeezing his hands together in his lap.
Tomas realized he was drifting, as usual, and being rude to his guest. "I'm a bit distracted. Sorry," he apologized, and promptly realized he had absolutely nothing else to say.
"That's all right. Probably thinking about deep and important cop things!" Auden laughed nervously then, pressing his hands between his knees as if to stop any nervous twitches. He was still vibrating with awkwardness. "I mean, I saw your badge when you, um, got out your wallet the other day. I wasn't trying to pry, honestly. I mean, you don'tlooklike a cop. I didn't just assume or anything like that. Not that you couldn't look like a cop. Just...nobody would look at you and think, 'Ooh, he's a cop!'"
Tomas tried not to grin. "Okay. So, do you—"
"Sorry, sorry! That sounded rude, and I didn't mean it to."
"No, it's fine. You're fine." Tomas didn't care if he looked like a cop or not, as long as it wasn't a "brown people shouldn't be cops" thing, which he totally didn't get the vibes of from this guy. "Do you go to this market a lot? I often mean to, but I haven't been in ages." Was that an intrusive question? He was just trying to make conversation.
"No. Um, I mean..." Auden swallowed visibly. "I guess because I live close enough to walk, and the food's cheaper and better there. I mean, fresh stuff. Good luck getting cheap bread. But, you know, it's something. It's great, actually. If you go late in the day, you can get things extra cheap, but I don't like walking home after dark in the winter." He looked self-conscious then. "Not that you guys don't do a good job keeping the city safe — serve and protect, officer! — because you do. There hasn't been a robbery on my block all month, and that's—" He broke off again, looking even more embarrassed.
