They crossed the parking lot, rounded the corner of the market, then came out into the tiny village itself. Although she'd been in the village almost every day this week, Sharon still gazed at it in wonder, for unlike the strip malls of San Marcos-where everyone seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere else, moving quickly, oblivious to everything around them-here she saw small clusters of people, sitting on the wrought-iron-and-wood benches that had been placed on the boardwalk in front of almost every store, or chatting idly in the middle of the brick street itself. Practically everyone either waved or spoke to Elaine as the two women wandered among the shops, gazing into the windows. Sharon made a few purchases at the drugstore and stepped into what was labeled a hardware store, but actually seemed to have a little of everything, including books, clothes, and furniture- and where, at Elaine's insistence, Sharon bought a collapsible shopping cart-then they went back to the Safeway.
At first it appeared to Sharon to be very much like any other supermarket she'd been in. But as she moved through the aisles, checking items off the long list she'd been building up all week, she noticed something strange.
In the bakery department, she searched in vain for a loaf of white sandwich bread. Finally deciding the store was out, she was about to settle for a loaf of whole wheat instead, when she realized that all the shelves were full, as if the department had just been stocked. Frowning, she asked Elaine if she'd seen any white bread.
Elaine shook her head. "There isn't any around here. The store gets all their bread from a bakery in Grand Junction. Super sourdough and great seven-grain. But no white bread."
"Swell," Sharon commented. "I don't suppose Mark will mind, but what am I going to tell Kelly? She loves peanut-butter-and-honey sandwiches on white bread, with no butter on the honey side, so by the time she eats it, the bread's like eating honeycomb."
"It does the same thing with whole wheat," Elaine replied.
Sharon shook her head dolefully. "Obviously you've forgotten what nine-year-olds are like. Substitutions of what they like are 'gross,' and mothers who make substitutions obviously have no regard for their children's health, because there's no way the kid will eat it, even if he-or in this case, she-starves to death." She took a deep breath, dropped a loaf of honey berry into her cart, then chuckled. "Well, at least she can't give me the 'everybody else has white bread' line."
They moved on through the store, and Sharon paused in front of a small display of soft drinks.
There was nothing there except mineral water, in an array of different natural flavors. She looked at it with disgust. "I hate this stuff," she said. "Where's the real pop?"
Elaine shook her head. "This is it. Anybody who wants anything else brings it in from outside. But nobody does. Mineral water's good for you, and once you get used to it, you get so you like it."
Sharon stared at her friend. Was she serious? She couldn't be! This was a Safeway, wasn't it?
As they kept moving through the aisles, Sharon noticed more and more discrepancies between this market and the ones she was used to.
The fresh-produce department was twice as large as any she'd seen before, and she had to admit that the fruits and vegetables were better than any she'd seen in California. The same for the meat department.
But in the frozen-food section, she found the supply limited to a few vegetables and a little premium-brand ice cream-the kind with no preservatives in it. She turned to face Elaine squarely, her expression quizzical. "What is this?" she asked. "A supermarket or a health-food store?"
"It's a supermarket," Elaine protested. "But they just don't carry any junk food, that's all."
"Junk food!" Sharon protested. "They barely carry anything at all that my family likes! Don't get me wrong, I'm all for fresh vegetables. But Kelly likes popsicles, and Mark is absolutely crazy about frozen fried chicken. And what are the kids supposed to do if Blake and I want to go out by ourselves? Where are the TV dinners?"
Elaine shook her head. "There aren't any. Nobody in Silverdale buys any of that kind of thing, so why should the store stock it? Besides, look at our kids. Have you ever seen a healthier bunch? They're big, and they're strong, and they practically never get sick. If you ask me-"
Sharon felt a surge of exasperation. "If you ask me," she interrupted, "you're starting to sound just like all those health-food nuts we used to laugh at back home. And maybe if the store stocked what you call junk food, people might buy it! What kind of manager do they have here, anyway? Don't allSafeways have to stock the same things?"
"Hey, it's not my fault-" Elaine started to protest.
"I didn't say it was," Sharon snapped. "I know Jerry runsTarrenTech around here, but I wasn't assuming he ran the Safeway, too!"
A strange look came into Elaine's eyes, and for a moment Sharon had the bizarre notion that somehow she'd struck a nerve. Then she realized that Elaine wasn't looking at her at all, but was staring past her at someone who had just turned into their aisle.
"Charlotte," she heard Elaine gasp. "What happened? You look awful!" Elaine clapped a hand over her mouth as she heard the tactlessness of her own remark. "Oh, dear," she said quickly. "I didn't mean-"
Sharon turned to see a small, blond woman, her hair drawn back in a ponytail to expose a face that would have been pretty if it didn't look so tired. Her eyes were rimmed with red, the black circles under them only partly hidden by a thick layer of makeup, and her left arm was held immobile by a sling.
"Sharon, this is CharlotteLaConner," she heard Elaine saying. "Sharon is Blake Tanner's wife. You know, Jerry's new number two?"
Charlotte managed a wan smile and extended her right hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, the words coming automatically. Her eyes shifted back to Elaine. "And you don't have to apologize," she said. "I know how I look."
"But what happened?" Elaine asked again.
Charlotte shook her head. "I-I'm not sure, really." She looked sharply at Elaine. "Didn't Linda tell you what happened last night?"
Elaine shook her head uncertainly. "Linda? What does she-"
"Apparently she broke up with Jeff after practice last night," Charlotte went on. "Anyway, when he came home, he… well, he was pretty upset, and he gave me a shove."
Elaine's face turned slightly pale. "My God…" She glanced at Sharon. "Jeff's big," she said. "He's the captain of the football team-"
"Not anymore!" Charlotte said with vehemence. "All week I've been telling Chuck I want Jeff off that team!" She was trembling now, and her eyes glistened with moisture. She glanced nervously around, and her voice dropped to an urgent whisper. "He was never like this before," she said. "Never! He was always such a sweet-tempered boy. Of course, Chuck still insists that it's just hormones-that he's just going through adolescence. But it's not. It's more than that, Elaine. It's that damned game, and Phil Collins, too! He drives them so hard-always yelling at them that the only thing that counts is winning! He's turned Jeff into a stranger, Elaine! A stranger, and a bully, and I don't blame Linda for not wanting to go out with him anymore."
"Charlotte-" Elaine began, but the other woman shook her head bitterly, pressing her hand against her mouth as if to hold back her own angry words.
The tension was almost palpable, and Sharon Tanner quickly searched her mind for a way to break it. Then she remembered the words she'd exchanged with Elaine just before Charlotte had arrived. "Maybe it's the food around here," she suggested, struggling to keep her tone light. "Elaine was just telling me how big and healthy all the kids are. Maybe they've finally gotten too big."