Page 54 of An Introvert's Guide to Life and Love
“What do you need at the market?” he asks.
“I need to teachyouhow to grocery shop.”
He slowly marks his page with a bookmark, places the book on his cluttered secretary desk, and says, “May I ask where this idea came from?”
“It came from the fact that you need to be able to take care of yourself. Starting with driving to Foxy’s and buying your own groceries. And ending with driving yourself to your therapy appointments.”
He cocks his head and stares at me like a dog trying to understand human language.
“Ah,” he says finally. “You want to go home.”
“No, I—” I glance around the room, taking in the photos of Lottie and Gramps and their children and grandchildren. “Iamgoing to go home, and I need to make sure you can take care of yourself before I go.”
“I see.” Gramps picks up a fountain pen and examines the end of it as though it might tell him something. “And when is your flight?”
“I don’t have a flight booked yet.” It occurs to me that it’s been a full week since I canceled my original flight home. A full week, and I’m not even close to finished with the things I need to do.
“No?” Gramps looks up at me, suddenly cheerful. “Well, you should probably get on that.” He heaves himself to his feet and sighs. “Lead the way to Foxy’s.”
“You’re driving,” I remind him, handing him his keys.
At the store, I confidently steer a shopping cart through the automatic doors.
I wave hello to the owner, in her usual spot by the first register. “Morning, Foxy!” She waves back, slightly bemused; clearly, she still hasn’t forgiven me for not letting her help me that one day.
“Now, let’s think about your staples,” I say to Gramps.
“Staples?”
“The things you buy regularly. Grape-Nuts, milk, orange juice.”
He looks around the small grocery store appreciatively. “I suppose some others might be apples, bread, tomatoes, and turkey.”
“Great! You’re getting it already.” I turn the cart toward the produce section and point at the signs above the aisles. “See, each aisle has a sign above it telling you what you’ll find there. That’s how you find what you’re looking for. And if you still need help, you can ask someone who works here.” I pause, not sure how much detail to include. “They’re the ones wearing green vests.”
“Hmm.” Gramps nods seriously. “And how do I address them?”
I stop short next to the bananas. “What do you mean?”
“Should I refer to them all as Foxy? Or perhaps Mr. Foxy or Miss Foxy?”
“What? No. Are you—” I peer up at him, wondering if he couldtruly be this confused. But then I see the twinkle in his eye. “Very funny.”
“After all, you called Elaine Foxy. When we came in.”
“Huh?”
“Elaine. The manager. You called her Foxy.”
“But…” Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Isn’t her name Foxy? I thought she was the owner.”
Gramps grits his teeth together, biting down on a laugh that nonetheless escapes through his nose.
“Stop laughing!” I hiss. “Is her name not Foxy?”
“Her name is Elaine,” he whispers. “She’s the manager.”
“Then who is Foxy? And how do you know this?”
