There are a handful of aisles with dry goods, then the largest section is a fresh bakery counter, a meat counter, and an entire counter apparently devoted to cheese.
This cuts through some of the frustration. More thananything that has happened today, even the library, the cheese section gives me a boost. Granted, I cannot indulge in buying fancy cheese, but I can relish knowing this cheese counter awaits. One of these days, I’ll come in and pick up a fresh baguette and a trio of fresh cheeses to indulge myself in. Maybe I’ll even have a friend to share them with.
The produce section is small—really, the whole store is, but it’s lots of locally made and sourced things, and a few brand names. I saw on the map there’s a bigger grocery outside of downtown and then more options in Silverton, but I like this place. The prices are reasonable, especially after shopping in LA.
I pick up some bananas, a box of cereal, and a carton of milk. I’d planned on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches until I move somewhere with a kitchen, but I’ve been living off of those for a few days now and I don’t think I can stomach many more.
This little place has a heat-and-eat meal section that claims to be fresh and made here in Juniper View, and it all looks so good. Meatloaf, chicken marsala with mashed potatoes, or vegetable lasagna. They all come with a fresh roll from the bakery case next door and just looking at them makes my stomach rumble.
After the coffee this morning, I had a PB and J for lunch, so I should be able to swing this. It’s cheaper than takeout, but I need to double-check. I hook the market basket over the crook of my arm and take a peek in my wallet. It’s plenty for now, but if I’m stuck at the motel for much longer and can’t find a job, I’m going to be in trouble.
“Pardon me, didn’t see you there.” An older gentleman with gray hair and a pleasant smile dips his head as though in deference to me. “I hope I didn’t startle you.”
“No problem at all.” I didn’t even realize he’d touched me, let alone bumped into me as he seems to think.
“Oh, good. I hope you have a lovely evening.” He holds up a bouquet of flowers, then moves to the checkout counter with his basket.
That was a heartening exchange, and for some reason, his kindness toward me makes me grab a chicken marsala, a delicious-looking roll, and take my place in the checkout. The man winks as he turns to go and I smile, grateful for the positive interaction after the slimy encounter at the apartment building. And even better, he didn’t seem to instantly identify me as a newcomer or insist on knowing my name. Maybe it’s not unreasonable to think I can be just another person in town.
The total is more than I’d like, but when the cashier hands me a receipt before I give her any cash, I’m completely confused. “Um, sorry, how do I pay?” I feel like a total idiot, but I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. Shouldn’t I get the receiptafterI pay?
The woman waves a hand with long, shiny red nails covered in little pink and gold hearts. “Oh, no, honey. You’re all set.”
I blink. “Um. Why?”
Her grin’s wide when she leans in like she’s sharing a secret. “Someone else paid for your stuff. Happens from time to time around here. Just pay it forward.” She winks, then waits patiently as I gather my bags and move out of the way so the next person in line can take their place.
Pay it forward?
The “someone else” has to be the kind man since he was the only other person in here aside from the woman at the register.
When I get back to the motel and greet a snoozing Mr.Bingley, I cry. But it’s not the end-of-the-world upset tears I anticipated. They’re relieved. A little perplexed because that man had been so nice without getting anything for it. I feel confused and amazed.
I’ve doubted the choice to come here, and the apartment debacle didn’t do anything to help the worry I’ve chosen this random small town in the most ill-planned move of all time. But between the coffee shop, the adorable tiny library, and now this?
I laugh, startling Mr. Bingley. I don’t know what’s coming, but maybe this wasn’t all a mistake. Maybe I really am where I’m supposed to be.
Even if I do end up living in a tent.
CHAPTER SIX
Sam
As much as I tried to embrace hope last night, reality hits me the next morning. I need a place to live and a job, and I need them as soon as possible.
I didn’t realize how little control of my finances I had until… Well, I don’t even want to think about that because it skewers me with that old sense of helplessness and shame for being so clueless, so I focus on the solutions. I did my best to set aside money, and that counts for something.
I have my phone, and the coffee shop has free Wi-Fi. I’ll go get another delicious latte and milk it for every second I can while I search for jobs and apartments. I may not have the sunny outlook I did years ago, but I’ve got a belly full of determination. This is the fresh start I fought for, so I’m going to figure it out.
May greets me with another wide smile when I step up to the counter. I’m relieved she’s here. Even though wedon’t actually know each other, she’s one of the only familiar faces I have right now, and she didn’t pry as much as I feared she would.
Low bar, but I’m not going to second-guess the way I’m drawn to this little shop.
“Are you at the Juniper View Inn?” she asks, hands moving at warp speed to pull the espresso for my drink while her face is serene.
I walked by the inn which sits a block off the main square and it’s completely adorable.I wish!“Oh, no, I’m at a little place right out of town.”
“Wait, no, tell me you’re not at Motel Misery. No, girl. You cannot be staying there by yourself.” She’s dumping and pouring all the while.
