In the co-op off Nicollet Avenue, where I work, with the beige awning and hydrangeas in one window. I sat on the Saturday waiting for my shift to end, when this man steps in from the rain. His brown leather coat dripping onto the mat that laid inside the door. His handsome glowing brown eyes matched the pigment in his dark skin. Ok, don't stare, my just fine life said to me, fifteen more minutes.
The next day the man stopped in again. I gave him the pound of beetroot, then asked, "Is that all for you, sir?" I half expected him to slip in a quick smile and then I would suggest that he take me instead. Tuesday it was watercress and a ball of mozzarella, Wednesday some sprigs of thyme from the crate across from the cashbox. When it finally came to my day off, I found myself wondering if he would stop in. Maybe some asparagus or some fresh spinach? And then Friday, I saw him again, smiled suggestively. Then he left hesitantly as if he wanted more from our gaze.
All the next week this went on.
Isn't it odd how a man will exhaust all of his options before he will go up to a woman?
Okay, back to work on Monday. The whole day dragged on and it seemed he wouldn't come to rescue me. The minutes seemed to stop and laugh at me as I tried to keep myself busy, sorting handfuls of lemons into neat rows. When I saw him just then, I quickly brushed the strands of hair from my eyes, embarrassed to see him looking at me.
He was so handsome you could love him in the rain with no umbrella.
"Aubrey," he said, as I wonder how he knows my name.
"Aubrey," he said again. "My pantry is full."
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