I thanked him and ducked out of the coffee shop with a smile on my face.
I moved on to Wood Hollow Market, where I bumped into an elderly couple arguing over Kashi versus Muesli in the cereal aisle.
“Get the Mucinex, Harry. I like that one,” a white-haired woman with braids and a tie-dyed purse declared…at the top of her lungs.
“No, you like the Kashi. The fruity flavor.”
“Do you know me?” she griped without heat. “Get the Mucinex.”
Harry grumbled as he reached for a box on the top shelf. There was no way he’d manage it without some acrobatics.
“I’ll get that for you,” I said, handing him the cereal.
Harry offered a toothy grin. “Thank you, young man!”
The woman toddled toward us and smiled, then pointed at the box and nearly keeled over with hilarity. “Muesli, not Mucinex! Ha!”
Harry chortled too. “Oh, yeah. Mucinex is the diarrhea stuff.”
“Oh, Harry. Don’t say the D word in polite company. You’ll scare the poor man.” She smacked Harry’s elbow lightly and winked at me. “You’re wrong, anyway. Mucinex is for your congestion.”
“I’m not congested.”
“I didn’t say you were, but if you were…you’d take the medicine for it.”
Harry snickered. “Not eat cereal?”
They were off to the races again, laughing like hyenas. It wasn’t even remotely funny, but I was charmed.
“Is that the one you wanted?” I asked.
The woman nodded. “Yes, dear. This stuff is tasty with a cup of nonfat Greek yogurt.”
“Boo! Life is short, eat the pancakes,” Harry advised.
“Harry’s a terrible influence. Don’t listen to him.”
“Rhona probably knows what she’s talking about,” Harry conceded. “We’ve been married for forty-seven years.”
I grinned. “Congratulations. That’s awesome.”
“Awesome! I like that word,” Rhona enthused. “Now…I’m guessing you either made a wrong turn in Elmwood, or you’re visiting a relative. Which is it?”
“I’m visiting, but on my own. No relatives.”
They nodded politely.
“You sure you’re not related to someone from these parts? You look an awful lot like the Bruces. Strong jaw…very handsome.”
“Thanks, but…no. I’m actually staying at a friend’s house by the lake.” I made a small production of dropping a box of Cheerios into my empty cart. “I should?—”
“Oh, which house? Our nephew lives by the lake. Do you know Cooper? He’s a mite taller than me and almost as handsome. We think he takes after his mother’s side of the family. Looks a bit like his Aunt Rhona here.”
“No, Coop is my brother Sal’s doppelganger,” Rhona corrected.
I did a double take. “You’re Cooper’s aunt and uncle?”
“We are. Harry and Rhona Lavigne.” Harry did a mini jig, and Rhona added some jazz hands. “And what’s your name?”
