Page 8 of Crossing the Line
"You know that everything we have here in the store fits the legal guidelines of the State of California."
Moira lowered the bottle and held it closer to her face, squinting at the label. "Well, who's to say that the guidelines are any good?"
There she was.
Good ol' Moira.
"I can't answer that question, Moria. But I'm sure if you want to, you can call your State Representative and ask them your questions."
Janice had meant it as a pat answer, but Moira was just full of surprises.
"Hmm..." Moira put the jar down on the counter and nudged it toward the register. "I'll buy it and while I'm eating it on my toast, I'll call up that Representative you're talking about."
Janice was about to ask her if she was joking, but the older woman was already digging into her purse for her wallet.
It turns out, Moira just wanted her strawberry preserves.
Janice tried not to smile too much as she rang up the item. "Do you need a bag, Moira?"
"A bag?"
Janice nodded as she made change for the older woman. "Yes, Moira. Would you like a shopping bag for your purchase?"
Moria gaped at her and then shook her head. "What kind of wasteful creature do you take me for, Janice Landy?"
Janice held out her change. "I just wanted to make sure you got your purchase home safe."
"I'm perfectly fine carrying one bottle home on my own." Moria took her bag off of her shoulder and held it open in front of Janice like kids often did on Halloween. "You can put the preserves in my bag, but-" She gestured at the jar on the counter beside the register. "You can put the change in there."
Janice smiled even more at her comment.
"Thanks, Moira. The girls will really appreciate it."
Moira's eyes softened a little. "I remember wanting to be in the FFA when I was a little girl."
Janice nodded. She had too.
Joining the Future Farmers of America was something she'd wanted to do when she'd been in school, it just wasn't in the cards for her.
The group she was raising funds for was a local girl’s group in the FFA who were raising money to do a field trip to the Stockton Livestock Auction.
Moira closed her purse and slipped the long handles over her shoulder. "You know..."
Janice tensed up a little in her shoulders.Here we go again, she thought.
"That oak tree in your front yard," she started, before sliding a look across to the butcher side of the market, "I guess it's in both of your yards." She sighed in a dramatic fashion that might have earned her a starring role on a soap opera in the 80s. "Bixby?"
There wasn't an immediate reaction from the other side of the market and Janice hoped that Moira would just say what she had to say and move along, but that wasn't in the cards.
Moira walked up to the white painted line that divided the original market in two and without crossing the line, even with the tips of her bright pink sneakers.
"Bixby! I know you're lurking back there, Bixby! I want to talk to you!"
Janice heard her ex-husbands deep throated chuckle from where she was standing.
Moira seemed unable to hear him.
Probably for the best.
