Page 14 of From Rivals to I Do

“No problem,” the kid says. “Sorry about that, I’ll have to call Glen to come clean this up.”

“You don’t got to bother the janitor,” I said as I finished cleaning myself up and got on my hands and knees. “I got this if you’ve got

some cleaner at your register. Was my fault anyways.”

The helpful clerk scurried off and came back with a bottle of spray cleaner and a little trash bag, and I went to work, cleaning up the

obliterated blueberry pie from the floor. After I got it all up, I picked my basket back up and went right back to shopping, though I

tried to cautiously rush through it.

I skipped talking to Alan, not too keen on spending much more time in the store with pie all over me, and made it back to the register,

only to be checked out by the nice young man who had helped me earlier.

“Gosh, what a weird woman, huh?” he says.

“Yeah, well, you don’t know what someone’s going through I suppose,” I say as he rings up my groceries. I pull out my wallet, pay in

cash, leave him a tip while he’s distracted—so he can’t argue with me about it—and head back out to the truck.

I carefully peel off the shirt and fold the mess in on itself so none of it gets on my seat, leaving me in my black undershirt and jeans.

Welp, I’m going to definitely need another shower, I think to myself as I take a closer look in the rearview, noticing there’s blueberry

streaked across my face, my ear, and even in my hair.

By the time I get back home, it’s getting late, nearly seven-thirty. When I get through the door, Zack and Noah are sitting at the table,

waiting patiently like two pups at supper time.

“Hey!” Noah calls out, nose in his phone.

“Evening,” I reply as I push the door open with my foot, hands full of grocery bags as I hand Zack his.

“Where’s my snacks?” Noah whines as he gives me a weird look.

“You didn’t text,” I say with a shrug.

“What happened to your shirt? Is that the new fashion now? To go out in a tank top?” Zack teased. “Wait a minute, what’s on your face?”

“It’s a long story,” I reply as I put on Mel’s apron and grab the bag of chicken I’d marinated from the fridge and put it on the counter.

“Well, it’s been a boring day, and we got time,” Noah replies.

“I was at the store, and some crazy lady ran into me with her pie,” I reply.

“Oof,” Noah replies as I grab the shirt I’d brought in to soak and show them the damage.

“Golly! She really did slam into you,” Zack says.

“Actually, it was my fault,” I say, correcting myself. “I was looking down at my phone and whacked into her. Ruined her dress and

everything.”

“Hmm, it’s almost like someone shouldn’t be paying attention so closely to their phone,” Zack teased, echoing a statement that I find

myself saying to the boys daily.

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