I walk to my left to grab a cart, and I’m surprised that the metal carts have now been replaced with the red plastic ones. We go through the fruits and vegetables first. My mother picks up some apples, and then I grab a couple of things, putting them in the basket. We stop at the butcher counter, and the man shrieks when he sees me. “Well, I’ll be.” He smiles at me, walking over, and I recognize him except his hair is whiter now on the side, and the hair on top of his head is gone. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?” he says, and I look at him. His white jacket is just like he always wears with a big white apron on in front of him with blood stains.

“Mr. Johnson.” I smile back at him. “It’s so great to see you.”

He nods. “You were very missed,” he says, looking over at my mother who stands there beaming with pride. She puts her hands around my shoulder. “Especially by that lady.”

“I know.” I look down at the brown floor. “But I’m back.”

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and then he looks at my mother, who places her order with him. “Why don’t you guys go do your shopping, and I’ll bring this to you when I’m done?”

We go through the aisles, stopping every second step as someone I know welcomes me home. I get so many hugs it feels like I’ve been gone forever. “How does it feel?” Mrs. Henderson asks, and I look at her. “To be back home. Especially after everything—”

I don’t make her finish. “It’s great to be back.” I cut her off because I don’t want to feed into the gossip mill.

“I’m sure it is, dear,” she says, patting my hand on the cart. “You just need to gain a few, and you’ll be good to go.”

“It was so nice seeing you,” my mother says with a tight smile. “See you Sunday at church.”

“See you then,” she says, pushing her cart and walking away.

“Well, that wasn’t bad.” I laugh to my mother and start to walk forward when I stop in my tracks, and I want to crawl into a hole. My mother stops next to me, not sure, and then she looks up and sees Cristine, Jacob’s mother, walking down the aisle looking around. When she finally spots us, her smile drops from her face, and in its place is a stare of death.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she says loudly, and I look around now, wondering just how big this showdown is going to be. I see that it’s just the three of us, and I have to wonder if it’s because people know and are avoiding this aisle.