“Will you stop saying that?” I hissed, my eyes sweeping the shoppers around us.

“Fine, here, you take it.”

“No, you’re being weird.”

“Take. It,” she growled and I yanked the damn vegetable from her.

“Hey, be careful with that. You’ve got to start slow.”

I shrugged and chuckled. “Why, is it going to break?”

“No. Just smooth your hand all along the length of it, run your thumb over the tip and—”

“Why am I doing this?”

“Everyone’s got to start somewhere,” she muttered. “By the way, they’re not usually this curvy.”

“Usually?” I perked a brow and humored my friend, curling my hand around the vegetable, gliding up and down, brushing the top and feeling for firmness at the same time.

“Harper?” a woman’s soft voice called.

My head shot up and I found a familiar woman staring at me with the eggplant, her mouth half open.

“Grace,” I squealed. Troy’s mother was a tall woman, much like her sons, she had curly auburn hair and had amazing skin for her age. The woman was always young at heart. I remembered her shouting like one of the cheerleaders during hockey games in high school.

“How are you? I didn’t know you were back in town.” She came over to me and wrapped her arms around me.

“For about two months now, yeah. Um, h-how are you, Grace?”

“Oh, so good to see you hun.” She glanced at the dark purple vegetable in my hand. “You gonna buy that?”

“Yep. Just the one.” I tossed it into my basket. I felt like I owed the thing that much after violating it.

Nic stepped away to the freezer aisle and Grace leaned into me, lowering her sweet voice. “What were you doing with that eggplant?”

“Oh, I was just making sure it was ripe. It’s an old trick someone taught me.”

She nodded thoughtfully but her expression saddened, “Your mother?”

Ugh, should have just told her I was jerking it off.

“I’m so sorry about your mom. We all are.”

“Yes, Dad and I got all your fruit baskets and flowers, thank you.”

She rubbed my shoulder. “Are you back for good?”

“For now.” I nodded, feeling the warmth that just came naturally from this woman.

“Well, you call me if you ever need anything. I’m sure my boys will be happy to know your back.”

“Thanks Grace. I appreciate it.”

She walked past me to the next aisle and I immediately made my way to checkout, telling Nic to meet me outside when she was done.

Utterly mortified, I prayed Grace bought my story. If not, I prayed to never run into her again.

10. August

10