“Hey, you!” The woman knocked her shopping cart into the case of “Bagel Bites” he was stocking. “What did ja do with all the Nippelodian ice cream?”
Jeff stood up straight and smiled. “Uhmm…I’ve never heard of that, but I’ve only worked here a few days.” He took a few steps to the refrigerated section and opened a door. “Here’s where we keep the ice cream. Let’s see if we can find it.”
“Right thar it is!” The woman reached down towards the bottom and hauled out a huge plastic tub. “Cain’t you read?”
Embarrassed, Jeff read the label. “Oh, Neapolitan. I misunderstood, ma’am. I thought you said…”
The woman pointed to the big black word and spelled it out loud for him. “N-E-A-P-O-L-I-T-A-N…Nippelodian! It’s Franch, you cain’t pronounce all the letters. That’s what I hate ‘bout all you ferinners. Ya think yer so much better than ever body. Go back to whar ya come from!”
“Ma’am, I’m American.” Jeff blinked.
“But you ain’t from here! Go back up North and speak Yankee to yer own kind.” She had to push hard to run over his foot, but she managed to do it, mumbling, “Comin’ to our town and takin’ all are jobs…” as she went.
Jeff just shook his head and limped back over to the Bagel Bites and finished stocking them. He broke down the box, doing his best to smile and say hello to everyone that knocked into him or told him to get out of the way. He broke the empty box down and placed it on his float.
Looking over the carnage of the grocery store, he wanted to stand on the float and yell at the top of his lungs, “Yes, it’s snowing outside! Better hurry, you’ll never ever be able to buy food again!”
Another woman grabbed him by the arm. “Are you stockin' here?”
“I’m trying ma’am, but there’s not much left.” He said. “Is there something I can help you find?”
“Yes. I need a case a them microwave dinners. Them kind that ain’t frozen.” She snapped like he should have known.
“Oh, I’m sorry ma’am. We are all out. They’ve been on sale, and the truck couldn’t get here because of the bad weather.”
“Stop yappin’ boy, and run in the back and get me some. Don’t care what kind, just mix me up a case.”
“Ma’am, there aren’t any in the back. We’re all out.” He tried to smile. “Hopefully, we’ll have some more on Monday. That’s when the next truck comes in.”
“All out?” She screamed. “You ain’t got narry one in the back?”
“No, ma’am. I’m so sorry.”
“Well, I swan. I bet if I's a Butler 'er a Trivette you'd have some.” She grabbed her cart and started to storm off. She stopped in front of him and screamed in his face. “I jus’ want you ta know, that when the ‘lectricity goes out, my kids ain’t gonna have nothin’ ta eat, an’ it’s all yer fault!”
“But ma’am, if the electricity goes out, you won’t be able to use the microwave anyway.” He said meekly.
“That’s why I want them kind that ain’t frozen, ya fool!”
Jeff yanked his feet out of the line of her cart wheels just in time. He sighed, then weaved and veered until he got his empty float off the floor. He took a few minutes and pushed the last jugs of milk through the doors so they could be snapped up by those convinced they’ll never ever be able to buy milk again.
All the eggs and bread were gone, he was hoping the last gallons of milk would give people something else to fist fight over rather than taking it out on him. He looked at his watch, a half hour to go. Jeff took a deep breath, plastered a smile back on and headed out to the sales floor. He’d block what was left on the shelves until time to go.
He’d just stepped out and a little tot of a girl with bushy red hair darted right into him.
“Baby Girl!” He heard the mother bellow. “I said to not let go of the cart!”
The little doll looked up at him and smiled. The sweetness melted all the nastiness of the rest of the day away.
“Sowwy, mithtah!” She said.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He smiled back. “You better run back to your mama, and don’t let go of that cart anymore. Okay?”
“Oh tay.” She turned around and he watched her slip her fingers through the metal mesh of the cart, all the while looking at him and grinning away.
“Jeff?” He heard the mother’s voice again. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Deanna?” Jeff finally recognized her. The last time he’d seen her she was about to give birth on the floor in Homeroom. “How you doin’?”
She grinned from ear to ear, making Jeff see the resemblance in her daughter’s smile. “Jes’ fine! I ain’t seed you since the first day a school. You likin’ it?”
“It’s fine. I’m still adjusting, but school is school.” He took a step towards her and rubbed her little girl’s curls again. “Did you not come back after the baby was born?”
“They made me git one them tutor thangs, but soon as all this snow melts enough to run the buses agin’, I’ll be back.”
“Good. Home room’s been a little dull without you.”
“Aw, that’s sa sweet.” Deanna smiled. “An’ thank ye fer the diapers. Them disposable kind is a real treat. I’m only a usin’ ‘em fer special occasions.”
“I’m glad you liked them.” Jeff noticed the car seat strapped in the shopping cart. “Is that the baby?”
“Yup.” Deanna picked the chubby little boy from the trundle and plopped him right in Jeff’s unexpecting arms. “This is Derek Hough Morely and…” she reached down in the basket and picked up an equally chubby identical baby. “…this is Maksim Chmerkovskiy Morely.”
“Twins?”
“Uh huh…fer some reason when I pop out boys they comes in pairs.”
“You named them after those people on ‘Dancing With the Stars’?”
“I figured they’s the reason I got pregnant in the first place.” Deanna frowned. “I feel kinda bad about not namin’ one after that Mark Ballis, but I be dang if I was havin’ triplets just to name one after him.”
“Well, they’re definitely interesting names for two very beautiful little boys.” Jeff stood there holding Derek Hough, hoping Deanna was intending on taking him back eventually.
“I’m callin’ em D.H. and M.C.” She plopped M.C. back in the basket. “I think that sounds modern without bein' stupid, don’t you? I jus’ hate it when people names they kids somethin’ stupid.” She looked up and growled. “Impala, git outta that woman’s cart an’ get back over here.”
“I’d better get back to work.” Jeff held the baby toward Deanna. “I guess I’ll see you in homeroom at Spring thaw.”
Deanna giggled. “Yer funny!” One hand on the cart, and one hand on red headed Impala she started to shove off. “I’ll see ya soon.”
“Uhmm…Deanna?” Jeff held the baby very definitely toward her. “I think this is yours?”
“Lawdy!” Deanna slapped her forehead. “When ya got six under six, sometimes ya ferget where ya put one.” She took the baby from Jeff’s arms and strapped him back in the seat. “…but I reckin that’s why God makes babies cry sa much.”
She rattled off and Jeff stood there wondering if he should check the aisles for mislaid redheaded toddlers. He looked up and saw another face he recognized, one that made him smile.
“Miss Ruby!” He called out.
The old woman smiled back and pushed her cart right over to him, keeping one hand on it while she gave him a big old hug. “Jeff! I was a hopin’ I’d see you!” She pushed him back and chided him. “An’ I tol’ja ta call me Maw Maw.”
He blushed. “But you’re not really…”
“Hesh up, chil’” She smiled. “There’s blood and there’s heart. Yer def’nitly that last ‘en.”
“Thank you.” It was his turn to chide her. “Now what are you doing out in weather like this?”
She waved her hands at him. “Law, Jeff. This ain’t nothin’. When I was yer age I had to walk ten miles barefoot up the mountain ta school in snow deeper’n this a fightin’ off Indians at the same time.”
“I see you’re wearing your tee shirt.” He laughed.
“A course!” She stuck her sagging chest out and smoothed the picture emblazoned with the words ‘Save Mark Hapka’. “I kin still watch ‘im til March I figure. I’m hopin’ there’s still a chance they’ll bring ‘im back. He ain’t been a Twitterin’ much, but I figure they’s throwin’ him one a them goodbye orgies. Ain’t that what they calls ‘em?”
“Uhhh...”
“Now…” Maw Maw reached in her purse and pulled out a box, handing it to him. “This is fer you.”
“Me?”
“Uh huh. A li’l thank ye and late Christmas present.” She grinned.
“Miss…Maw Maw. You didn’t have to do that.”
“P’shaw! Jes’ open it.”
Jeff ripped the paper off one end and his jaw dropped. “Ma’am this is an I-Phone.”
“That’s what they calls it.” She smiled. “I was a hoggin’ Brod’s laptop, so me an’ Dreama Holmes runned down ta that store on Exit 7 and got me one. An’ while I was there I got a good deal on them thangs.” She pointed to the gadget in Jeff’s hands. “So I got one fer me, Brod, Modene an’ you. Had ta make sure all m’Twitter buddies had one, too.”
“But, Maw Maw these are expensive. How could you afford…?”
“Shush now. You’d be surprised at what you can get when yer 86 an’ can fake a fall in a chain store. Come shoppin’ with me sometime. I’ll show ya how ta gets a good deal.”
“I don’t know what to say.” He said as he gave her a big hug.
“Don’t say nothin’ jus’ come over to the house this weekend and show me some more stuff on the computer. Fer an ol’ lady, I’m a havin fun! Did you know they’s a place called Hulu whar you kin watch TV shows anytime?”
“Yes I did.”
“I been watchin’ Mark Hapka almost all day long. Vonda Kay’s got a TiVo now, so she’s gonna down load some episodes on her computer sos she can edit all the good butt shots ta put on disk fer me!”
Jeff bit his lip. “I’ll be happy to come over any time if that’s okay with Brod.”
“Brod?” She frowned. “Why wouldn’t be okay wi’him?”
“Well…” Jeff looked at his feet. “I think I make him uncomfortable, that’s all.”
“Honey, he’s a gettin’ over it. We all gots ta remember how he feels. He ain’t never had no contact at all wi’ his Daddy, an’ suddenly after almost eighteen years he comes back inta his life wi’ you in tow.”
“I understand.” Jeff looked at her with a weak smile. “I’ve never seen my biological father either. So I know how he feels.”
“Sweetheart.” Maw Maw put her hand on his arm. “I didn’t know that.”
Jeff nodded. “I can only imagine what Brod must think when I'm around.”
She touched his cheek with her withered fingers. “Honey, ya’ll have sa much in common. Give it time.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Ruby Acres!” A snide shout came from behind them. “I am surprised to see you!”
Maw Maw’s eyes closed to slits and her old voice dropped an octave. “Arzella Tater, you about in all this snow?”
“Of course, dear.” The woman’s cart came to an abrupt stop as she looked down on Maw Maw and Jeff. “Marcella’s birthday party is today. It always the bash of the year, too many would be disappointed if we canceled. Most of the county would hap’ply risk death to get to one of my parties, let ‘lone a celebration of my Marcella’s birth!”
Maw Maw smiled. “Did Dreama drop off the gift I bought fer Marceller?”
“Yes, Ruby. She’ll open it with the rest of the gifts.” Arzella sneered. “The ones from people who were invited.”
“Well, ain’t nothin’ ‘spensive, just a new pair a knee pads.” Maw Maw looked at Jeff. “I heard the football team say she’d worn her’s out.”
“Yes, she goes through them like peanuts.” Arzella cocked her head and smiled obliviously. “Marcella is so athleltic.”
“Sump’n like that.” Maw Maw said.
“Well, I just wanted to say hello.” Arzella grasped her cart. “I had heard you weren’t up to par, and was shocked to see you out in this weather.”
“I had a little weak spell, but I’m back a full tilt a’gin.”
“That’s good.” Arzella looked at her tee and Jeff could see her lips move as she read. “Save Mark Hapka? Why, Ruby, how wonderful that you’ve taken to carryin’ on the Lord’s work.”
“What er you talkin’ ‘bout, Arzella?”
Arzella scowled and pointed to Maw Maw’s shirt. “Save Mark Hapka. I assume you’ve started a massive effort to save that young man’s soul.”
“He’s a Horton, Arzella, that’s purdy much a free ticket ta heaven.”
“Then why…?”
“Never mind, Arzella, it’s sumpin you cain’t unnerstand.”
Arzella Tater squinted her eyes and put her hands on her hips, 90% cellulite, 10% hip. “Are you insinuatin’ I’m stupid?”
“P’shaw, I ain’t insinuatin’ nothin’…”
“Ma’am…” Jeff decided to step in. “Is there something I can help you find…for the party?”
Arzella smiled and turned her attention to him. “Yes, young man. Cheese, I need cheese and let me remind you, this ain’t no Moretz hoedown. This is a fine ta do with class!”
“Of course.” Jeff put up his hand before Maw Maw could make a come back. “All we have in this aisle is your standard American, Swiss and Colbys but the Deli should have some nice imported soft cheeses like Brie and Gouda.”
“Gouda?” Arzella turned up her nose. “This is a first class party young man. We ain’t havin’ no ferrin garbage! Only the best fer my Marcella. She gets squirt cheese!”
Jeff slapped his hand to his mouth to stifle the laugh Maw Maw barely hid. Arzella pushed her cart away from them and threw snidely over her shoulder, “Squirt cheese on Chicken in a Bisket!”
“Look honey, I’d better git outta here afore I git both of us in trouble.” Maw Maw kissed Jeff’s cheek. “Now you be careful goin’ home.”
“I have four wheel drive.”
“I got four wheels, too.” Maw Maw smiled. “And sometimes, all four of ‘em’s on the ground when I drive.”
Jeff shook his finger at her as she headed toward the check out. She got in Luller Needles line, so she knew it wouldn’t take long. Sure enough, as she started putting her groceries on the belt her buddy Dreama Holmes appeared, chomping at the bit.
“Luller rush her through. We gots ta get home.” Dreama said.
“I know. I’ll do that best I kin, Dreama honey. I wanna git home m’self. I hate drivin’ in all this stuff.” Luller said rubbing a can of collard greens across the red eye.
“Oh, we don’t care nothin’ bout the snow Luller.” Maw Maw plopped a sack of White Lily on the belt. “Miss Americer’s on tonight. Me an’ Dreama ain’t a missed one since the first TV set in Johnson County.”
“You know, I don’t think I’ve watched one of them since that little Sonya Pleasant from Mountain City was Miss Tennessee.” Luller ran a few more items across the eye. “You want yer milk in a bag?”
“No, honey. It’s easier to haul by hand.” Maw Maw handed Luller her coupons. “I was so mad she didn’t even make the finals, but a hometown girl was Miss Tennessee so that was nice.”
“You know they should have a Miss Johnson County agin.” Dreama hefted some plastic bags into the cart. “We haven’t had one a them in twenty years or more.”
“Shoot, Dreama.” Luller snapped her gum. “They ain’t had enough smart, nice purdy girls to have one in twenty years.”
“El, they find fifty to represent Americer.” Maw Maw handed Luller some cash. “So ya know half ‘em gots ta be fakin’ it. Thar should be 'nough sluts in Johnson County ta fake bein' good girls fer a beauty pageant.”
Luller handed Maw Maw her change. “Maybe I’ll get m’husband ta watch it with me tonight. I usually don’t let ‘im watch lots of girlie thangs, ‘cept women’s basketball.”
“You let Wally Dean watch women’s basketball?” Maw Maw grabbed a bag from her hand and plopped it in her cart.
“He says it’s because them girls er in it fer the love a the game and not the money like the men.”
“Well, ya cain’t really argue wi’ that.” Maw Maw agreed.
“I know.” Luller sighed. “But deep down I know he jus’ likes the bouncin’ hooters.”
“Luller, we all gots them secret things we likes ta see that gives us that…well you know feelin’.” Dreama said.
“I reckon.” Luller fretted.
“I like m’stories. They do it fer me.” Maw Maw rubbed her tee shirt, “’Specially this hunk a man.”
“I like ta watch them gym-nasts.” Dreama put her hand to her mouth and giggled. “Law the way they kin twist themselves and theys all them muscles that bulge out in the right places.”
“Maybe that’s m’problem.” Luller said. “Ta be honest, if ya wanna git ta me rub a grilled steak behin’ yer ears an’ talk like a loaded baked tater.”
Maw Maw shook her head and put the last plastic sack in her cart. “Luller, you just need ta spend some time on the Food Network.”
“Oooh! I love that channel!” Her eyes brightened and she smiled.
“See?” Dreama said getting behind the cart loaded with groceries for two snowy households. “We all gots them secret things we watch cause they make us feel good.”
“Tha’s right, Luller.” Maw Maw grabbed the cart, too. “Don’t go frettin’ ‘bout Wally Dean a watchin’ women’s basketball.”
“I guess yer right.” She smiled at her friends. “You girls be careful. Them roads is awful.”
“We jes’ gots a straight shot up the mountain.” Dreama reminded her. “But we’ll be right careful.”
“You, too, honey.” Maw Maw helped Dreama push the loaded cart towards the doors.
Luller turned to her next customer. “Nonnie Funk! I ain’t seed you in ages!”
The arthritic lady stood there with a loaf of bread cradled in one arm and five pounds of sugar in the other, snuff dripping down the wrinkles in the corners of her mouth. “Huh!” She snorted and spit on the floor.
“Would like ta take advan’age of are special? Two nabs fer a dollar?”
“No!” The woman huffed. She slammed her bread on the conveyor and before Luller could push the button she slammed the sugar on top, completely obliterating the bread. “An’ if m’ bread is smashed one more time afore I git it home…”
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