How would Chase do at one of the most basic skills an adult performed on a weekly basis?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The doors of the grocery store slid open to bright fluorescent light and the beeping of cashiers scanning grocery items with brisk proficiency. The scent of fresh-baked bread embraced Chase like an old friend, making her stomach growl in a reminder that she hadn’t had breakfast. She should have taken that stupid protein bar Olivia had offered.

Chase had been grocery shopping before but never with a list. More like picking up beer or a few snacks. She glanced at the list in her hand. The thing was, like, long and full of unfamiliar items.

“Ma’am? You need a basket or cart?” someone asked her. Probably because she stood in the entrance, keeping the doors from closing.

“Oh, yeah, I have a long list here,” she said, turning to the guy who wore a red apron and had a lazy eye. She averted her gaze because she was never sure where to look and didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She looked back down at the list instead.

“Over there,” he said, pointing to rows of metal shopping carts.

“Thanks,” she said, tugging on a cart . . . that didn’t move.

“Here,” he said, pulling two carts apart with a grunt. He used a wipe to swipe the handle and pushed it toward her.

“Thanks,” she said again, putting her purse in the basket part and setting the list on top like she’d seen other people in stores do before. She pushed into the store and glanced at what Olivia had listed. Hmm. Most looked to be ingredients for cooking. Wouldn’t it have been easier to order some meals they could put in the micro . . . Wait, was there a microwave in that dump?

Chase didn’t remember seeing one in the morning light, but then again, she’d been eyeing that feral beast, so maybe she’d missed it.

She decided to start in produce.

Apples.

She knew what those were, of course. But as she scanned the section, she realized she didn’t know what kind Olivia wanted. So she found a little paper bag below the fruit bins and got one of each variety. Done.

Leeks.

What in the hell was a leek? She’d seen it mentioned in soups on a menu before but couldn’t for the life of her remember what they looked like.

“Excuse me,” she said to an older lady who maneuvered a motorized cart around a freestanding bin of tomatoes. “Can you point me to the leeks?”

The woman lifted her head and looked at Chase like she’d asked her to clean a toilet or something. “I don’t work here.”

“I realize, but I thought you might know what a leek is?” Chase tried to smile, like she’d done when she played Laurie Jingle, a sweet southern debutante, in Bringing Down the House.