She wondered forlornly why she couldn’t have bought more than a quart on her last trip to the grocery store, just before Spring left. She didn’t bother to look into the bare cupboard for breakfast; she’d eaten the last of the crackers and cheese last night.
There was no help for it. She had to go out this morning to buy groceries.
She wouldn’t panic; she couldn’t. She had to have groceries.
A quick trip through a convenience store wouldn’t do it, either. Glancing at the wall clock, she decided if she left this moment, she could be at the nearest grocery store by the time it opened. The crowds weren’t heavy this early in the morning. If she didn’t linger, if she kept her purchases to a minimum, she could be in and out in no time.
She hauled in a deep breath as she found a light sweatshirt to ward off the early spring morning chill. She stiffened her courage as she grabbed her purse and ran down the stairs for the exercise, swung out of the front door and around to the parking lot for her car.
Five days. It had been five days since she moved into her apartment. Spring had called every night, asking if she’d been out yet. She’d fibbed, knowing her sister knew she fibbed, saying she’d been out walking.
Well, tonight when Spring called, Autumn could tell her honestly that she’d bought groceries. Managed to face whatever crowds there were to be faced, and come home unscathed. She could take care of herself.
Her street was yet rather quiet this morning, she gratefully noted. Her small parking lot, too.
Pausing in her drive before entering the traffic, she spotted a red sedan pulling into the lot across the street. The driver rolled down his window and waved. Brent Hyatt. She returned the wave, but didn’t wait long enough to encourage conversation. She must get her errand done as speedily as possible.
In the end, it took her longer than she’d planned. She’d forgotten it was Friday, when the grocery stores would begin their weekend rush.
It was her own fault. She’d waited too long to shop and needed too much. Paper products, canned goods, staples, coconut macaroons. By the time she’d gone through the checkout line, four people were behind her, a mob of shoppers streamed toward her through the doors, and perspiration stood out on her forehead. Her sweatshirt was damp at the neckline and her breathing a little jerky.
Her bottom lip hurt from biting down while waiting to check out.
But it wasn’t a full-scale panic, thank goodness. She wasn’t really shaking; not really. Only a mere tremble shook her hands. And in reality, that mob of shoppers only amounted to a dozen or so people.
In spite of her fears, she’d done it.
She drove home through the morning rush carefully, and parked in front of her building, needing the shortest distance to carry her grocery bags. She sat a moment to breathe deeply before getting out on unsteady legs. The trembling had almost disappeared.
She was fine. Just fine. She’d be even better when she had all the groceries lined up in her cupboards.
Then she got out and walked around to the trunk, eyed the three, filled-to-the-brim bags, and wondered if she dare try carrying all three at once. All she wanted was to get into her apartment and not come out again for a while.
“Don’t be foolish,” she muttered to herself under her breath.
“I agree,” Brent spoke just behind her. “Don’t even think you can make it upstairs alone with all three of those bags at once. They’d spill and leave a trail like Gretel’s crumbs. Here, I’ll give you a hand.”
“Oh!” She brushed her bangs from her eyes as she blinked up at him. Where had he sprung from? How had he known what she was thinking? Only Spring ever did that.
“Oh, I don’t want to bother you. I can take care of it on my own, thanks.” She straightened her spine. “I’ll, uh, make two trips.”
“Come on, it won’t take a minute,” he insisted, grabbing two bags. “I won’t stay.” He flashed his irrepressible grin. “I promise.”
“All right.”
A middle-aged woman came out of the first-floor law offices as they entered the narrow front hall. She didn’t bother to even glance their way. Autumn felt her muscles begin to relax. She had made it through her first outing alone without a problem.
She had her key ready and put it into her front door carefully. As soon as the lock tumbled, she swung the door wide. Just as carefully, as though on soldier’s marching orders, Brent set the two bags he carried on her kitchen counter and turned to leave. “There you go.”
“Thanks,” she called toward his retreating back. “Thanks a lot, Brent. I appreciate your help.”
“You’re very welcome, Autumn.” He continued his route toward the door and elevator. “See you around.”
He’d been very kind, and suddenly, she was loath to see him leave. His was a friendly face, after all.
“Um, a moment?” She ran after him into the hall. “I just wondered…what happened with Sam and his wife? Was the baby all right?”
Brent’s smile broke out in a sunny reflection of joy. “Oh, yeah, that turned out just fine. Touch-and-go for a little while, though. Mother and baby girl Emily are doing fine now. Ashley went home yesterday, and the baby will most likely go home next week, Sam said.”
“Oh, I am so glad. Please tell Sam I’m happy to hear of his good fortune.”
“Blessings, indeed. I’ll tell him.”
“Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. Better not leave your car where it is for too long though. There’s a spring concert or something at the market this weekend and the Friday lunch crowd will be looking for street parking. It’ll be safer in your parking space.”
“Yes, I’ll come down and move it as soon as I put away the food that needs refrigeration.”
“See you around,” Brent said again, stepping into the elevator.
Autumn put away her groceries, made herself a cup of tea, and went to sit on the high stool she’d placed beneath her favorite window. Time to allow a bit of triumph to flow, she mused. The early-morning crowds hadn’t been so terrible to face, in retrospect, and now that it was out of the way, she must face her next hurdle. Additional shopping.
There was nowhere to set her cup, and she balanced it on her knee. She’d found herself in this spot so often, to think or talk to Spring on the phone, and now she decided it needed more than a stool. She had to do something else, here. Place a bench beneath the window or a more comfortable chair beside it. With a small table to hold her teacup and telephone.
Glancing around her apartment, she let her gaze fall on the many boxes that remained unpacked for lack of a ladder to reach the tallest supply shelves. A building supply store, that’s what she needed.
Catalogs would give her the items she needed, too. Tempting. Too tempting. She could easily make a phone order and have things delivered.
But that was an excuse not to leave her house. She’d promised Spring she wouldn’t allow that to happen—become a total recluse, just because crowds frightened her. And Spring would know. She always did, just as she knew when Spring needed her.
Well, it could wait for tomorrow. She’d had just about enough triumph for one day.
Autumn woke early the next morning, determined to finish the painting of tulips she’d started yesterday afternoon, using the pot she’d bought at the store as a model. The bright blooms cheered her, and replaced the fading jonquils that Brent had given her.
That’s one thing she needed, she decided, pouring herself a glass of milk. She needed more flowers to adorn the apartment. More bright colors.
The open-air market