Joey raced to the checkout counter with a cake and a squeeze tube of blue frosting teetering in her hands. Her biceps wedged a jar of Merenda against her chest. Joey had convinced the nice manager of Publix to import it from Greece, vowing to be an avid customer. (She’d kept her word.)

The frosting Joey had scrawled on the otherwise standard vanilla sheet cake now bobbed up against the plastic top. She ran past a shelf with Doritos. Gosh, Doritos were delicious. But Nacho Cheese Flavor versus Cool Ranch? Pausing to ponder, Joey set the cake down beside her bare feet. The cake had previously been adorned with HAPPY JOEY DAY! Now the entirety of the H clung to the plastic top, so the cake just read APPY JOEY DAY!

“Jonesey!” Leo’s voice tore through the vacant market.

“Coming!” Abandoning the Doritos, Joey lifted the cake and ran. Then she changed her mind and swiveled backward into a Roger Rabbit. After a few moments, she was breathing hard, but it was very fun to Roger Rabbit. But God, it was also exhausting to Roger Rabbit.

Joey stopped, panting in the produce aisle beside a crate of interesting objects. They were waxy yellow-green, shaped like stars. Joey picked up a fruit, twirled it around. It was fascinating, in a way. Star fruits? Huh.

“Joey!”

Joey went to the checkout line in a manner she felt to be restrained and sober and un-Roger-Rabbit-like. She placed the cake, frosting, Merenda, and star fruit on the conveyor belt. The checkout girl had already rung through Cinnamon Toast Crunch, milk, Sour Patch Kids, wooden spoons, paper bowls, and two bottles of water.

Over the beep-beeps of the scanning machine, Joey said, “Leo, what are you going to eat?”

“There’s an entire cake here, Jones.”

“It’s my cake!” Joey’s stomach rumbled at the threat of him. The cake wasn’t even that big. “If you want cake, Winn, I suggest you get your own.”

Shit, was she really going to eat all this crap? But she’d hardly eaten all day. And it wasn’t necessarily a binge if it was in full view of Leo.

Leo laughed. “So I’ll have cereal. Or are you going to eat the entire box of that too?”

“You can have cereal,” she allowed.

“Maybe I’ll even eat this,” said Leo, tossing the star fruit into the air and then catching it as they exited the market.

“You can’t eat the star fruit. It’s my inspiration.”

“For what?”

“A star fruit show. Maybe I could be a…sculptureress? Sculpturrrr…you know.” Joey plopped onto the pavement by a row of shopping carts.

“Jones. Let’s eat at the hotel.”

“I don’t want to eat at the hotel. It’s Joey Day! You promised me it’s Joey Day. Can’t we eat right here where I want to on Joey Day?”