Mare Moody - [blank]

I walk away from him and get dressed in my usual attire. Old t-shirt, jeans and converse. My apparel stopped maturing when I stopped maturing.

He wears a soft navy blue t-shirt that hugs his body in all of the right places. His jeans carefully caress his thighs and hang gently on his waist. When he stretches, I can see his white underwear band from below his shirt.

I am becoming obsessed with him slowly. I don’t know if this is unhealthy but I’ve stopped caring. I just want to be with him. I think I am at the bottom of the hole with no way out. I don’t mind it one bit.

“Alright, let’s go,” he says as he slips his shoes on.

He walks out of the bedroom and reaches for my hand. I grab it, willingly. He stops at his coat rack and pulls on a hoodie.

“It’s starting to get cold,” he says as he hands one of his hoodie’s to me. I take it from him and pull it over my body. It is a little big but it nestles me with warmth. I pull the hood over my head and smile up at him. He chuckles when he sees me drowning in his sweater.

“Come on.” He takes my hand again and we walk out together.

Things seem to be ok. I am happy where I am. I walk hand and hand with the potential father of my baby and I feel love in my heart.

We take the elevator down and walk through the lobby. When we reach the street, I immediately aim for a taxi. I start walking towards the line of them but Noah’s arm doesn’t follow me.

“That baby needs to have a healthy environment,” he says, “we should walk so that you get a little exercise in.”

I smile. He really does care.

I follow his lead and we walk through the streets of Boston. The cool breeze is becoming frigid and the leaves that were formerly on the trees have now made their home on the grass and concrete.

We pass car after car and walk through crowds of hundreds of people. I love the city. It has always been my home. It is a way for my introverted self to have the opportunity to be around people and receive social satisfaction while not having to be bothered with a conversation.

As we walk farther the wind gets colder. My hand begins to freeze against his and I feel my thoughts beginning to focus on the goal at hand. To get to the grocery store.

I don’t think that Noah had planned for the weather outside to be this cold. His face is growing paler and he looks pained. He doesn’t want to admit that we should have taken a cab but he knows very well that I was right.

“Are you ok?” I ask as our steps continue.

“Mhm,” he groans. This makes me chuckle. So much for caring about me being healthy. Now I am freezing to death.

“It’s only a block away.” He sounds hopeful.

I laugh at his unease. It is, after all, his fault. We walk across the street in a hurry and I can see the glowing orange sign from across the block.

In tandem, our feet get closer and closer. I can feel my hands go numb as I focus on the task at hand.

Then it stands before us in all of its shitty glory. The old building looks like it has been in one to many snow storms. A thick layer of dirt rises its way up the side of the building rests in the dissolving gutters. It makes me worry about the quality of the food I’m about to purchase. Though, on second thought, giving my father food poisoning has certain comedic value to it, so Noah and I continue our voyage into the store.

The automatic doors open. The metal screeches as it is pulled. I swear I see sparks coming from the old mechanics. I step through. The inside of the store smells of old plastic and disintegrating non-perishable items.

“What are we going to make?” I ask Noah. I don’t usually cook so I’m leaving this in his hands.

“Maybe just a simple Chicken Alfredo?”

I hate Alfredo.

“Sure.”

We walk towards the meat aisle and Noah inspects the packages of pre-sliced chicken like he is picking the most important thing in his life. He puts his hand under his chin and looks at them. I ignore him and grab a random one.

He looks offended but I grab a cart, throw the chicken in it and walk away. He runs after me.

“I see how it is,” he jokes. I am relieved that he isn’t actually upset over my nonchalantness in this matter.

We walk passed the vegetable and he stops me.

“Don’t you want to make it fancy?” He begs. I can tell he really want to impress my father. What he doesn’t know is that my father is easily pleased by everyone but me. He walks over to the produce and starts to grab random phallic objects.

“Cucumbers or zucchini?” He holds them both in his hands. He holds them up to show me. I laugh at the scene. He looks ridiculous.

“Always go for the bigger one,” I say with fake seduction.

“Always,” he agrees and he drops the zucchini in the cart.

“Now, we need sauce and noodles!” he declares. He starts walking. He is a man on a mission. I wish I had that kind of motivation for life, let alone a pot of pasta.

I follow him through the maze of aisles. Finally, the sauce aisle lays in front of us. He stands in power stance in front of the sauce. I go to grab a random one, yet again and he grabs my arm before it even gets to the shelf. He slips his fingers through mine. He holds my hand. I know this is a tricky ploy to stop my attempt.

I reach with my other hand and he turns to face me. He grabs my other hand and we stand in a prom pose in the middle of the sauce aisle in a shitty grocery store. He refuses to let me grab a random sauce but prefers to be a jokester rather than a hard ass. I can’t say I dislike it.

“This is an important process, Ana Henderson,” he says looking straight into my eyes. His faux seriousness makes me laugh. What a man I have here. He lets my hands go and faces the wall again. He attempts to read the italian labels.

“BeroCHI.” He emphasizes the last vowel, “CatastruNAM”

I giggle at his stupidity.

“Just grab a damn bottle, Noah.” I demand through my laughter.

“I don’t see the brand ‘a damn’,” he says. His face does not move from his deadpan expression for one second.

“For fucks sake, Noah.” I facepalm.

“That is Mr. Evanston to you, Ms. Henderson.”

“I’m going to whoop your ass if you don’t grab a fucking bottle, Mr. EvanSTON.”

"Yes, please," he says. He sticks his tongue out at me and grabs a bottle off of the shelf.

"If the whole trip is going to take this long then I am scared about actually making it back in time," I jest.

"Don't worry about it."

I shake my head and follow him as he walks down more aisles until getting noodles and placing them in the cart.

Then, unannounced, he walks to the cash register. I walk behind him and attempt to place the items on the belt for him. He rejects my help with a stupid grin on his face and begins to place them down as slowly as possible. He knows I don't want to take up a ton of time so he intends to do just that.

The cashier begins to ring up our items. As she does this, Noah looks at me. He is eyeing to the payment counter with the register fresh and ready for my money. He is going to try to pay. I will not let this happen. It is my father coming over therefore it is my responsibility.

“RACE YOU TO THE COUNTER!” He yells. The entire store hears his battle cry and looks in awe as two grown adults sprint forward. The small check out aisle does not fit both of us. He takes the lead by getting in the middle. I attempt to pass him but I hit the gum display on the side of the aisle. Gum spills all over the floor. At least 100 packs of gum and 50 candy bars plummet to the floor. I made the entire candy rack fall. I stop once I hear the crash. My adrenaline comes down quickly and I look around the store, mortified.

Every person's eyes are on me and the giant mess in front of my feet. If Noah hadn't banshee screamed before I wouldn't have this amount of attention me. Noah is already at the register paying. I lost that battle but now I have lost as the incognito battle as well. The cashier looks at me disappointed, I bend down and try to pick up some of the gum but the entire rack has fallen. There is no place for me to put the loose packs. As I am focusing, suddenly, my hand is grabbed and I am pulled to my feet. Noah has the recipe and bags. He pulls me away from the mess and starts to speed walking out. I feel bad for leaving that big of a mess but Noah refuses to slow down so I fall him out of the grocery store doors as quickly as possible.