Chapter 6 Grocery Store Grinch
Grocery Store Grinch
There were two new lake communities on the outskirts of Mistletoe, and a brand-new Target only twenty-five minutes away.
Plus, someone had bought the old Pump N’ Pantry and remodeled it into a Casey’s that delivered pizza.
But the old Pick N’ Save had not changed.
They hadn’t even updated the signage out front that was broken when I was a kid and read “Ick N’ Ave. ”
Which had then turned into Teagan and me calling it “Dick and Dave.” And then eventually “Icky Daves.”
Who knew why inside jokes started or why they lasted the entirety of our lives?
But that was where we were headed after school on Wednesday—Icky Daves, because Teagan, despite looking and acting like a grown adult, was in fact still a child.
“I’ve never seen anyone with less food in their house,” I told her as she parked her car in the same parking spot we always parked in.
“Psht,” she countered.
“Seriously, Teags, what do you eat?”
She pulled a cart from the cart return and shrugged. “Erm, school breakfast, then school lunch, then, um, whatever my parents have made for supper?”
“Wait, Linda’s was an option for dinner?”
“No, it’s Wednesday. Linda’s at Bunko.”
I sighed. “Teagan, there’s more to life than school lunch. I mean, what happens when it’s fish sticks?”
“Have you heard of cold lunch? Tally makes a gorgeous cobb salad. And that blue cheese dressing? From scratch.”
“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe the blue cheese is actually just the regular cheese that’s molded, and they don’t want to waste it.”
She psht-ed again.
We moved through the produce, Teagan pushing the cart, me selecting staples I thought might keep Teagan from contracting scurvy.
“You know what? I didn’t have a Hudson to teach me how to cook, okay? This might surprise you, but Pool Hall Donny preferred gas station taquitos.”
I tried valiantly to stifle my laugh. “I still can’t believe you dated Donny Wasserman. Of all the people in Mistletoe—”
“Well, there’s not that many. Okay? People, I mean. And when we get to the single guy demographic, things really start to narrow down.”
“I can agree to that. It’s a real problem.” I sighed as we moved toward the meat department, following the carefully budgeted list I’d made over the last two days. “The lack of single men, I mean.”
She nudged my hip with the cart. “But you like it, don’t you? Being back, I mean?”
I thought about the first graders wiggling their way under my skin and making my Grinch-sized heart grow at least a full size.
Brody Perkins might have inherited the devil from his uncle, but he was the loveable kind of naughty that made me constantly have to hide my smiles.
And the rest of the kids were the absolute sweetest. They weren’t my class and this was temporary, but yeah, I loved being back in the classroom. I loved having a purpose again.
I even, well, maybe not loved . . . but I liked being back in my familiar stomping grounds.
Shooting Teagan my most genuine smile and meeting her eyes, I said, “I don’t hate it.”
She had just enough time to fist pump dramatically—and sarcastically—before I had to eat my words.
Cat Macey rounded the corner in her Pick N’ Save polo and signature too-tight jeans.
Her makeup was still over the top, her winged eyeliner almost reaching her hairline, and her lashes had somehow gotten even bigger than I remembered.
Honestly, I half expected her to flutter them and fly away.
Her jaw dropped when she figured out who I was, arms extended awkwardly, hands flapping excitedly.
“Oh, my gaw!” she squealed at the top of her lungs, bright blue gum hanging out of the corner of her mouth.
“Oh, my gaw! Look who it is! Look who’s finally come home!
” She pulled me into a hug before I could dodge her octopus-like arms. “My baby girl is back!” She squeezed me so tightly I briefly worried about losing consciousness. “My little Holly is finally home!”
Her cloying perfume threatened to finish the job her death hug had started.
“Hi, Cat,” I huffed, minimizing my breathing as much as possible.
She pulled back, pinching my cheeks with her excessively long, bedazzled, cheetah-print nails. “Does your mama know? She didn’t say a word! That bitch! I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.”
“She doesn’t know,” I said quietly, plainly.
“I just got back last weekend.” Cat, my mother’s best friend in the whole world, despite their vastly different taste in men .
. . which, now that I thought about it .
. . made sense so they wouldn’t overlap as they both ran parallel circuits in the Mistletoe’s dating ring .
. . narrowed her eyes at me like a loyal, not-actually-blood-related aunt.
I changed course. “I didn’t want to ruin her trip.
She’s in Portugal, Cat. She’s having the time of her life.
” Or so her Instagram stories made it seem.
“Ibiza, darling. Nothing so pedestrian as Portugal.” She laughed as if the two places were on opposite sides of the world—they weren’t—and the sound was reminiscent of someone on a yacht, not standing between the frozen fish sticks and discounted turkeys at the local Pick N’ Save.
To be clear, I loved Icky Dave’s. And most of the people who had worked here over the years. Who I did not love was Cat. I tolerated her. I was somewhat endeared to her. She was probably always going to be in my life to some degree. I did not, however, love her.
“You get it,” I said, knowing flattery was always the best policy with Cat. Logic would get me nowhere. I saw Teagan inching away out of my periphery. “I’m in town for a while. I’m staying with Teagan.”
She glared at Teagan for a long moment, but when she turned back to me, she was all smiles. “Good, darling. Good. Your mama will be so happy to see you.”
Despite what had happened with Sam all those years ago, I had never cut my mom out of my life. Let’s face it, Sam wasn’t the first boy she’d tried to swoop out from under me, and he wouldn’t be the last.
But I’d learned from that experience, gotten some cheap therapy from Kansas State psych grads working on getting all their hours in, and learned to set some actual boundaries for the first time in my life.
Mom had been upset—naturally. And honestly, it took a couple of years before she heeded even the smallest personal boundary.
It helped that I didn’t live at home and had found Hudson, who wasn’t the slightest bit interested in my cougar mother.
I mean, he didn’t even like her. He was not even nice to her.
But we had a healthy texting relationship these days, and last summer, when she’d been on a hiking trip with a guy named Dierks, she visited me in Denver. We’d had a lovely-ish time.
It helped that Hudson and I were deciding to end things, and so she hadn’t had to deal with his dirty looks and underhanded comments. But our breakup had nothing to do with her, so . . . this was what I called progress.
“Well,” I stepped back, untangling myself from Cat’s appendages, “I should find Teagan. We’re trying to figure out supper.”
“Oh! Do you need a key for the house? Celine left one with me if you’re wanting to stay somewhere nice.” She smiled at me, and I noticed a smudge of red lipstick on her front tooth.
“No, no! That’s okay,” I rushed to tell her. It was hard to explain the totality of the nightmare that would be moving into Celine’s bachelorette pad while she was overseas and didn’t have a chance to make it safe for company. God. The horrors. “I’m happy with Teagan.”
Cat’s face fell a little, the chance to fix her bestie’s familial relationship while she was on an international trip without her slipping through her fingers. “All right, if you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
She brightened a little. “Well, don’t be a stranger, Holly Girl. Come back and see me.” She squeaked another sound of delight. “Oh, my gaw! I just can’t believe you’re home! I’m going to text Celine right now!”
“Please don’t—” but my voice was lost to the sounds of early 90s music playing over the speakers and a baby crying in the distance. I could already see Cat frantically tapping away at her cell phone on her way back up to the front.
“That’s it, I’m leaving,” I told the frozen turkeys.
“Aw, you just got here.”
I turned around and found Sam Autry standing there—Holiday Brights quarter zip and all. I sucked in a sharp breath and tried to pretend he hadn’t just jump-scared the ever-living shit out of me. “Where did you come from?”
He held up his head of lettuce, bag of tomatoes, and pound of bacon apologetically. “I’m not stalking you. I just want to eat supper.”
I side-eyed his bacon. BLTs weren’t a bad idea, and it was something I could teach Teagan to make by herself. Even the kitchen-reluctant could handle bacon and toast. Maybe.
“It feels like you’re stalking.” When he opened his mouth to argue, I added, “You even planted a spy in my classroom.”
“That was pure luck.” When I narrowed my eyes at him, ready to file a restraining order, he added, “For you. Or do you not remember me stopping your little runaway the other day?”
“Yeah, but now he won’t stop telling anyone who will listen that his uncle wants to kiss me.”
I thought I’d won the argument, because clearly—look at the facts! But my words brought a smirk to his stupid, too-full mouth.
“I don’t remember you ever getting this flustered, Holly.” His green eyes darkened, and his tongue dragged a slow line over his lower lip. “You okay?”
No, I wasn’t okay. And every time I thought I was going to be okay, ghosts from Christmas past kept popping up.
Like him. And Cat! And I was hungry and still adjusting to being back home, and I’d gotten out of a semi-serious relationship only, erm, four months ago.
And sure, I was glad to be rid of Hudson and his inability to commit or be flexible to things I might like or want.
And also yes, he was incredibly cranky. And not the sexy kind of cranky.
The I’ll-leave-a-bad-review-on-your-Yelp-page-just-because-I-hate-your-napkin-choices kind of cranky.
But whatever Sam was thinking felt much too soon.
And much too familiar.
And why was he still looking at me like me being so stressed my hair had started to curl was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen?
“I’m fine,” I told him in a placid, serene voice that would have won an Oscar under the right judging system. “Totally fine. Just here with Teags. Looking for dinner.” I glanced around the store, desperate to find the best friend who’d abandoned me. “It’s Bunko night for Linda.”
He waved the bacon around again. “Don’t I know it.”
I took a step back. Why was it so sexy for a grown man to be holding a loaf of fresh sourdough? “Well, I should be—”
“I would like to take you out.” His face had lost the teasing amusement. He was all sincerity and focus now. “I’m not just saying that. I’d like to catch up with you, Holls. I’d like to hear about your life.”
I winced. Who had the stamina to fight a man who wanted to hear about my life? “Maybe,” I said weakly.
His brow furrowed. He wasn’t convinced. “It’s been a long time, Haden. I think we should talk.”
“I’m just really busy right now. With the new job.
” That I was only filling in for and not doing any of the hard work.
“And the holidays.” Even though my family consisted of one other person and she was across an ocean right now.
“And . . . teaching Teagan how to cook, and eat, and be a normal adult person.”
He chuffed a laugh. “Good luck with that.” He made a show of looking over my shoulder. “I think she’s found the Little Debbie endcap.” He was so stealthily dramatic about it, I almost didn’t look. But in the end, I caught sight of her adding Oatmeal Pies and Swiss Rolls to the cart.
I put a hand over my face, embarrassed. “You have to start somewhere, you know?”
He chuckled again. I ignored him again. “Agreed.” His smile was bashful, apologetic . . . charming. “So dinner? This weekend?”
“You’re crazy.”
His grin split his face, making his eyes twinkle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Shaking my head, I hollered a goodbye over my shoulder and hunted down Teagan so I could drag her out of the store by her hair.
“Next week for sure then,” Sam hollered after me.
Where was Teagan? Oh, there. Elbows deep in snack cakes.
She might not have known why I rushed her out of the store, but she didn’t put up a fight. Although in hindsight, I wondered if she was compliant so I wouldn’t notice that she’d filled our cart with junk food.
I might not have said yes to Sam Autry for a date. But the flip side was that Teagan and I ate ice cream sandwiches and Starcrunch bars for supper.