Chapter 1-2
922 Words
Ashley pulled into a parking space in front of one of the local grocery stores. She turned off the engine of her Mini-Cooper. “All right, we’re here. And remember, no alcohol.”
He scowled. “I know, you told me a hundred times.”
“I’m going to search your grocery bags, too, so don’t think you can sneak something past me.”
“You aren’t coming in with me?”
“No. I want you to do your own shopping and pick out your own food. My only advice is try to get some healthy foods.”
Mason sighed. “I’m not a child.”
“Of course not. But you are spoiled rotten and haven’t had to lift a finger to do anything for yourself in years. If we’re going to get you back on track, it starts now.”
“Fine.” He opened the car door and got out. Then he stuck his hand out. “Money?”
Giving him an encouraging smile, Ashley handed him a wad of twenty dollar bills. “If you need more, which I doubt, you’ll have to come out and let me know.”
He stuffed the money in the right front pocket of his jeans and sauntered to the automatic doors of the grocery store. It wasn’t that he’d never been in a damn grocery store. It had been a while, yeah, but as a kid he’d gone with his parents sometimes.
Mason couldn’t help but grimace at the reminder, although slight, of his parents. They’d been fine parents when he was a young kid. As soon as he came out to them at sixteen, however, their relationship changed. Silence had reigned in the house. He didn’t speak to them and they didn’t speak to him. Hell, his mother and father barely spoke to each other at that point.
As soon as he turned eighteen, he was told it was time for him to find someplace else to live. He’d quickly found friends who were willing to put him up and he hadn’t seen his parents since. They could be dead for all Mason knew. He knew he was basically dead to them.
“Hey, you’re blocking the entrance, get out of the way,” some older guy yelled at him, pushing a cart. He nearly plowed right into Mason.
He jumped out of the way and walked toward the first section on the right, the bakery section. When he reached the loaves of freshly baked bread, Mason realized he should have picked up a grocery cart himself.
After that was taken care of, he loaded his cart with three loaves of French bread. He loved carbs. Shouldn’t eat them, of course, but well, he’d take a few extra walks on the beach. Sure wasn’t anything else to do around here.
Next, he picked out several cream-filled donuts out of the freshly baked donut bin. He’d pick up some sort of fruit to satisfy Ashley’s suggestion he get something healthy.
By the time he reached the dairy area, his gaze fell on a totally hot guy standing in front of the refrigerated milk section. Mason figured the guy had to be in his early thirties or so, just a few years older than his twenty-six. He appeared to be about six foot, maybe a bit taller, but not much. But the man had beefy biceps peeking out from a formfitting navy polo shirt. Since the man wore a pair of khaki shorts, Mason could see he had very nice muscular legs, too.
Mason stared as the man ran long fingers through a head of dark chocolate curls, his lips pursed as he eyed the selection of milk. Should he offer to help? He couldn’t help grinning at the prospect of helping the man with something far more intimate.
A woman with long blonde hair and a big bosom cut in front of the man to open the refrigerated doors. She smiled apologetically and said something but Mason was too far away to hear it. The guy said something back and gave her a flirtatious smile right before he laughed.
Mason sighed and turned away. Obviously straight. Damn it. Well, for a half a second, he thought maybe being stuck here for three months wouldn’t suck as much as he’d thought. Fat chance.
* * * *
“I’m impressed,” Ashley said, putting the last of the groceries away. “You did better than I thought. You actually chose some vegetables and fruits.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He scowled.
She laughed. “Don’t be such a grouch.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a very simple flip-style cell phone, which she handed to him.
“What’s this?”
“A phone.”
“Yeah, duh. But this isn’t my cell phone.”
Ashley patted his arm. “I know. I’ve temporarily replaced yours with this one. Your usual one has Internet access and all the numbers of your so-called friends who helped get you to this point in the first place. For now, I don’t want you calling any of them to come up here and party with you.”
His jaw tightening, he said, “What if I remember their numbers?”
“Do you?”
His face flushed, Mason sighed. “No. I never bothered, because they were programmed.”
“Exactly. If you need anything, my number is the only number programmed in this one. Today is Friday, I’ll check with you on Monday unless you give me a call before that.”
“Don’t I get a car? What if I need to go somewhere?”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere.”
Ashley smiled. “There’s a bicycle in the little side yard.”
“A-a bicycle?” Mason’s jaw dropped open. He hadn’t been on a bike since he was a pre-teen.
“You’ll do fine, honey. Now, I’m going to be on my way. Walk me outside.”
Mason followed her outside and to her car. He wanted to beg her to stay there, not wanting to be alone. But this was part of the deal, what he’d agreed to, so he remained silent.
He waved as she pulled away from the curb and drove up the quiet residential street. Watching her car get smaller and smaller, he hugged himself.
Great. All alone with no one to talk to but me. And I’m boring.
- Writer
