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The checkout girl was quickly losing her patience as she was being forced to wait while the elderly woman took each item out of her cart, one by one, and set them on the counter for her to scan. The woman was old, granted, but far from feeble. Ann deduced that she was the type of ancient hag who seemed to wear her general contempt for the world on her sleeve and was thoroughly enjoying what she was doing. She saw the twisted smirk on her face each time she leaned over her cart to retrieve the next item. She could almost envision the old lady sliding in behind the wheel of her ‘68 Oldsmobile when she was finished here and purposely driving fifteen miles an hour all the way to her home just to tie up traffic.

The man sighed again, and began tapping the lid of the pickle jar nervously with his fingers. Although his back was to her, Ann could almost see the subtle scowl on his handsome face as he waited his turn. Suddenly he glanced back, apparently to see how many more people were being held up by this woman. He smiled a little when he saw her, shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of hopelessness, and turned around again. Ann had smiled back at him, unable to resist the temptation. His demeanor was quite charismatic.

When the woman had finally placed the last of her groceries out on the counter to be scanned, she took out her well-worn billfold and produced a wad of one-dollar bills then started counting them out. When she had at last counted out the thirty-eight ones she needed, she fumbled through her change purse to cover the sixty-four cents and handed the coins to the checkout girl, snatched her receipt, then went on her merry way. Ann began taking her groceries out of the cart as the man stepped forward to be checked out.

“Sorry for the wait, sir,” Ann heard the checkout girl say to him.

“That’s quite all right-it wasn’t your fault,” the man replied good-naturedly. His voice was deep and pleasant, with the slightest trace of an English accent.

“Nine fifty-three,” the girl told him.

Ann watched as the man handed her a ten-dollar bill. “Out of ten?” she said. “Thank you sir. Have a nice day.”

“You, too,” he replied. He picked up his bag and headed for the door.

Ann resumed taking out her groceries and noticed that the man had forgotten the six-pack of Coke. The checkout girl noticed it at the same time. “Sir! You forgot-” she shouted, but the man was already out the door.

Ann hesitated a second, then peered at the checkout girl. “I’ll take it out to him.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” the girl said, relieved.

Ann swooped up the Coke and ran out the door. She spotted the man just as he was about to get into his car. ”Sir!” she called after him.

He turned around as Ann continued running toward him. “You forgot this,” she said, holding up the six-pack of Coke.

The stranger smiled at her and said, “Oh, thanks! This is what happens when you’re in a hurry, I guess.”

When she drew up to him, breathless, Ann handed him the Coke and said, “I’m sure that woman in front of us wasn’t much help either.”

He grinned. “Hell could have frozen over in the time it took that old biddy to get those groceries out of her cart!”

Ann laughed and said, “I’d better get back inside.”

He seemed disappointed. “Thanks again, uh…”

“Ann.”

“Thanks, Ann. It was very kind of you.”

Ann nodded, then turned to leave.

“Wait a second, Ann.”

She turned back around. “Yes?”

“This may sound terribly forward of me, but I’d really like to repay you somehow for your kindness. Like dinner, perhaps?”

Ann suddenly felt uncomfortable. She replied, “That’s not really necessary…”

“Jerry. Jerry Rankin. I’m sorry-that was very rude of me putting you on the spot like that, and I see now that you’re married. Please accept my apology, Ann.”

Ann glanced down at her wedding band then back at him. He seemed genuinely embarrassed and in fact, ashamed of himself for hitting on her. Ann realized that she could simply let him go on thinking that she was married and that would be the end of it but for some reason, she didn’t. “I’m divorced.”

Instead of looking relieved, Jerry Rankin frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that, Ann. I’ve just recently become a widower and have a pretty good idea of what you must be going through. My life hasn’t been the same since I lost Marie… it’s been a very difficult adjustment to make.”

Ann felt a wave of pity. “I’m sorry too, Jerry. I might as well be honest with you-I was the one who wanted the divorce- but it hasn’t made it any easier to ‘adjust,’ as you put it.”

He suddenly glanced at his watch. “Listen, Ann. I’m running late for an appointment and I know you must go back inside, but I would be delighted if you’d reconsider my offer.”

Before Ann could object, he reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a business card and handed it to her.

“If you should change your mind, or simply want to chat sometime, just give me a call, okay? No catch, no strings.”

Ann stared at the card for a moment, then took it from his proffered hand. “I’ll think about it, Jerry. But I can’t make any promises.”

He smiled broadly and said, “I understand, Ann. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll only feel regret that we never had the chance to get to know each other. You’re a lovely woman, as well as kind.”

His flattery made Ann melt a little. “Thank you, Jerry. I’ll think about it-I promise. I’d better go back inside now.”

“Nice meeting you, Ann. Good day,” he said and stepped into his BMW.

“Goodbye,” Ann said, then turned and walked away.

When Ann returned, the checkout girl had already bagged her groceries and was standing patiently by the register.

“Did you catch him?” she asked.

Ann nodded. “He was very grateful. How much do I owe you?”

“Sixty-seven forty-two,” the checkout girl replied.

Ann quickly wrote out a check for the amount, feeling the eyes glaring at her from behind. She handed the check over and showed the girl her driver’s license.

“Thanks,” she said as she cleared the register and gave Ann her receipt.

“Thank you.”

Back in her car, Ann took Jerry’s business card from her purse and studied it. He was a real estate broker, apparently working independently, and the card listed a Dublin address with a local phone number. She wondered if she’d made a mistake in accepting it, then decided that she hadn’t; the ball was in her court, after all. She stuck the card back into her purse and started up the engine.

When she got home, she could hear the television coming from the family room as she carried the grocery bags into the kitchen. After setting them down on the table, she decided to go in and see if Amy wanted any breakfast.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” she said as she entered the family room. Amy was sitting on the sofa watching cartoons.

“’Morning, Mom,” she mumbled, not taking her eyes off the tube.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No. I’m not hungry.”

“You need to start eating, young lady. Let me fix you a bowl of cereal,” Ann insisted.

“I’ll eat later, Mom. Let me wake up first, okay?” she whined.

“All right-but don’t forget. Any calls while I was gone?”

“Karen called. I told her you’d call her back.”

“Speaking of calls, who was it that called in the middle of the night?” Ann asked, suddenly recalling the phone ringing at three a.m.

Amy glanced over at her. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me, Amy. I know damn sure it wasn’t for me!”

“Really, Mom-I don’t know who it was. Some crank caller.”

Ann immediately sensed there was more to this. “What do you mean? Did they say anything?”

“He sure did-it was some pervert!” she replied with a scowl.

Ann winced. “What did he say, Amy?”

Amy’s eyes returned to the television. After some hesitation, she said, “He just breathed really hard at first-you know. Then he said something…”