Groceries (2)

Studying the packets of seeds, I recalled mom once mentioning dahlias and how she and Popo used to grow them. So, with only the best intentions in mind, several of them were added to the growing pile of things, along with a can of bug spray as I recalled my predicament. With my work done, I searched for her, and we met two aisles over, her with an armful of fresh vegetables. I helped her load them in. She squinted at the pack of nuggets before I explained they were for Benji. That, she didn't question, the both of us knowing that he'd wanted to gain weight. Although, I sincerely doubted his school would have a wrestling team. 

I swore my mom shed a few short tears at the seed packets but ignored them. We rush around, grabbing a few more cold things. The final thing we get is a reasonably big watermelon, spending minutes tapping until we found one that made the perfect hollow sound. We're silent on the way to check-out and even as we pay. But on the way out, someone rudely interrupted that comfortable silence. He cleared his throat, offering to help us tote the watermelon to the car. 

I had a curse word of choice in mind but bit my tongue. "Sure," I said, gritting my teeth. "Mom, this is Liam. I ran into him earlier, and..." I cut myself off since there hadn't been much more to the interaction. 

"Liam?" She asked, intently studying his face. Her following words caused us both to jolt. "Liam Dyson?" 

He nodded, seeming spooked as he grabbed the melon. "You... You know my family?" 

"When I lived here," my mom paused for dramatic effect, "I hated your father." She shot me a look that said she was now equally annoyed. Thinking she would refuse, I was shocked when she allowed it. After waving at the cashier, he walked out with us, making a poor attempt at small talk. 

"So, Maya said you just moved to town?" 

Luckily, my mom interjected before I could get 

"Mhm, yeah. Her father is a forest ranger." 

"So that's what brings you all here? Where are you originally from?" 

"Wimberley. Quiet village. No wolves or anything, only those big cats and deer. Much less scary things there, you know?" 

I snorted, knowing that she knew exactly what he meant. She continued describing our old town to the now uncaring Liam, who had forced on a grin. As we neared the car, she took the watermelon, placing it into the trunk with much effort. She waved him off, and instead of returning to shopping, Liam retreated into the woods. She stared with a plain expression before laughing as if she'd finally realized something. 

It was my turn to be bewildered as I buckled up. So my instincts had been right; Liam really was weird after all. 

Mom handed me the snow globe, and I noticed just how exhausted she looked. For once, I wish I hadn't chickened out of learning how to drive. I didn't have the chance to say anything before she reversed, setting off on the half-hour trip home. Her mood was something I sensed, which inspired me to turn on the radio in search of an upbeat song. Having momentarily forgotten it was broken, I smacked it. The CD tray opened with a mechanical whirring sound, and I dug around the glove compartment for a new one. Her collection was mainly country and bluegrass, with only one album by Jay Chou and a small collection of jazz. Liking only the latter, I popped in a disc from the genre. Trombones instantly filled my ears in an upbeat tune. I mimicked them, not exactly knowing how, and earned a laugh, my mom drumming along on the steering wheel. 

After around five minutes, our mood was dulled by a sudden onslaught of rain. First, it was a slight drizzle, then a huge downpour with cracks of lightning in the distance. I wasn't sure of how safe it was, but we nonetheless drove right through, only ten miles slower than the speed limit. We had minimal conversation and arrived home forty minutes later. 

To our surprise, Benji stood on the front porch with umbrellas, shivering in his shorts and t-shirt. One was held over his head, and another was tucked beneath his arm. He sludged through the water rushing downhill, slipping in his sandals as he came to a stop in front of us. 

"Dad said for me to help," he said, snatching the bags from my arms to replace them with the other umbrella. As he trudged forward, I tilted it over to cover mom. We both partially stood under it, with the other half of our shoulders pelted by droplets. We looked at one another and laughed. Benji had lied. Dad was at work, and our WiFi had yet to be set up. Meaning there was no way he could've contacted my brother. His failed efforts in acting disinterested were something I found adorable. Typical of the Too Cool Benji. 

Grabbing the remaining bags, I handed the umbrella to my mom, aiming to complete only one trip. We were successful in that, and as soon as I crossed over the threshold, my legs nearly gave out. I removed my shoes and plopped down at the table, feeling drops of water drip off me, soaking into the chair below. Since when had I become so unathletic? Or was it just the altitude? Either way, I was breathing hard, still gulping for air even after Benji slid over a glass of water. I was almost jealous that his hair looked shiny and sleek while mine was more of the oily weasel kind. 

"Fatass," he said, but this time I grinned, knowing I had leverage over him. 

Acting hurt, I crossed my arms. "I got you chicken nuggets, don't cross me!" 

He made a face then practically sprinted to the kitchen, where the bags lay in wait. "You forgot the sriracha." He whined, angrily crinkling the plastic as if he were strangling someone. Me, I imagined. "Now I'll have to use ketchup." 

"Gross," I mumbled. 

"Gross." He mournfully agreed, tossing the bag into the fridge. Of course, they were thawed out by then, so the freezer would only make it worse. Smart choice there, the first he's made in a good while.