As I'm rounding the end of the aisle with my cart, I bump into a display of cans and one falls off and hits the floor. I pick it and see that it's a can of dinosaur-shaped pasta in a red sauce. It was Ben's favorite food. He would've eaten it for every meal if our mom would've let him.
Whenever he'd eat it, he'd tell me facts about dinosaurs. He didn't have many facts so he'd repeat the same ones over and over again. Right before the accident, I bought Ben a big book about dinosaurs so he'd have some new facts to share. I was going to give it to him when he got back from the trip. But I was never able to. And now it sits in his room, on his bookshelf, with all his other books.
I pick up the can that fell and place it back on the display. One, two, three, four...
I hear a voice behind me. "What is she doing?" It's followed by snickering.
I turn back and see two teen girls standing by a shopping cart, staring at me. They quickly glance away but are still giggling to themselves and whispering to each other. Their mother comes up behind them, holding a can of tomatoes.
"Girls, stop it," she says. She pushes her cart around me, giving me a weak smile like she feels sorry for me.
Oh, God, what was I doing? Was I counting? In the store? Out loud? Shit!
I look up and see an older man giving me a sympathetic nod as he walks past me holding a red shopping basket. He looked at me the way you look at homeless people on the street. That look that says you're uncomfortable because you feel bad for the person but aren't sure what to do.
My face is burning hot and I'm sure it's bright red, given the embarrassment I'm feeling right now. I race ahead to the checkout, and when I get to my car, I close my eyes and take some deep breaths. I'm fine. Everything's fine. So they saw me counting? Big deal. Except it is a big deal. They think I'm crazy. I saw the looks on their faces. I heard those girls laughing at me.
They're walking out of the store now so I pull out of my parking space and leave. I'm not going to worry about this. Who cares if they think I'm crazy? Maybe it's a good thing. It'll make them, and everyone else, leave me alone, which is what I want. Now if only I could get Nash to leave me alone.
When I get home, I see his truck in the driveway but he's not outside. He must be in the kitchen, tearing down that wall. I hate to admit this, but seeing him this morning really turned me on. He's my neighbor so I shouldn't be thinking about him that way, but damn, I couldn't help it. Watching him swing that sledgehammer and slam it into the wall; shirtless, sweat beading up on his tan skin, his massive muscles flexing. It's no wonder I got all hot and bothered. Then again, I haven't had sex in over a year so it's not surprising a hot, half-naked guy would make me feel this way.
I wonder when Nash last had sex. He broke up with his fiancé six months ago so maybe that's how long it's been, which would explain why he got so turned on by my little coffee scene. I only did that to get back at him for showing up at my door at the crack of dawn. And for staring at my breasts, which I know he was doing.
"Cat!" I yell as I walk in the house. "I'm home. Come say hi."
Nothing. He doesn't even bother to make an appearance. I set the grocery sacks down and walk to Ben's room. And there's Cat, in his usual spot, nestled against Ben's pillow like he's waiting for him to come back.
The cat was Ben's. He picked him out at the shelter. He was just a tiny kitten back then, with a shiny black coat and soft green eyes. The woman at the shelter said he'd been there a while because people never want black cats, thinking they're bad luck. But Ben fell in love with him right away, so we took him home and Ben named him Cat. Ben was only two and a half at the time so Cat was the best name he could come up with. The two of them were inseparable, and before my family left on their trip, Ben made me promise to take care of Cat. And so I have, but Cat just doesn't seem to like me. Maybe he blames me for why Ben never came home. Maybe he thinks it's my fault.
"Cat." I say his name and his eyes peer over at me but he remains curled up in a ball. "Why don't you come out here while I make dinner?"
He doesn't move. I'm standing at the door. I rarely go in Ben's room. It's too sad. Too hard. I don't even like looking at it and would prefer to keep the door closed, but I leave it open just a crack so Cat can go in here. But today, I take a deep breath and walk over to the bed. It's covered in a blue comforter with footballs and basketballs all over it. Ben loved sports. Being only five, he was still learning all the rules, but he loved watching football games with his dad, or the two of them would throw the ball around in the back yard.
"Cat." He looks up at me. He looks sad. Does he always look like that? I guess I never noticed. He's always hiding in here so I never see him. I lean down and pet his back. "You miss him, don't you?"