Chapter Text
A soft thunk tapped Ben's foot and he looked down to see a can of soup at his feet. Chicken noodle, he read from the label wrapped around the can as he picked it up off the floor. He slowly stood back up, eyes bouncing between the can and the 5/$5 sale sign on the shelf.
"I am so sorry about that," a flabbergasted young woman rushed out, snatching the can from his hand. "This one got away from me." Her free hand brushed her wavy brown hair behind her ear, revealing a quickly growning and endearing blush.
"It's alright," Ben mumbled, eyes catching the cart in the middle of the aisle just behind her filled with several cans.
"And these," the woman mumbled from the floor, shoving fallen cans haphazardly back onto the bottom shelf. "Sorry, I hope you didn't want any of these. They might be dented. Not that that ruins the soup, but if you add some rosemary it–"
"Oh!" Ben cut her off, kneeling down. "Let me help you." He picked up a can of minestrone and put it on the shelf. "Thanks for the warning, but I was looking for the canned tomatoes."
Her lips twitched and she pointed over her shoulder. "Ummm, right over there," she said, brushing her hands together as she stood.
Ben twisted around, looking behind him as he straightend up. There were the canned tomatoes on the other side of the aisle, directly opposite of the canned soup. It's not his fault not much in this store was eye level.
"I hate to ask, but since you're here," the woman's voice interrupted his thoughts, "do you think you could get something from that top shelf?" She pointed to the nearly empty space above her head where the last few cans stood stacked all the way at the back. "Sorry, you probably get asked a lot to retrieve things for us shorter people."
Ben chuckled, the foreign feeling of his face pulling into a smile aching his cheeks. "Stop apologizing," he told her sincerely, reaching to the back of the shelf for a can. "How many... lentil vegetable?" Unable to hide his cringe, he held out the can.
"Not a fan of lentil?" She asked, dropping the can into the cart with a light clatter.
Ben rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. "I've actually never tried it. From a can. Any canned kind, I mean," he stumbled over his words.
"Weeellll..." she started, gripping the handle of her cart. "Don't knock it 'til you try it. My friend Finn said I'm practically a chef. Hit it with some rosemary and an immersion blender and it's practically a gourmet meal."
"Smart," Ben nodded in approval, proud of this young clever woman he just met. It was the best anyone could do with canned soup, he supposed, though he tried to brush off the mention of the name Finn. Snoke's restaurant Supremecy Steak House recently had a Finn who quit, complaining of the intense pressure of how Ben ran his kitchen.
"Aaaanyway, I should get going. Thanks for your help..." she trailed off, motioning with a hand for him to finish her sentence.
"Ben," he answered with a smile.
"Rey." She smiled back. "I guess I'll see you around?"
Would it be weird to ask a stranger you just met in the canned soup aisle at the grocery store for her phone number? Probably, most defintely, which is why Ben simply nodded yes to her question and returned her tiny wave as she walked away. He turned around and right there on the other side of the aisle were his canned tomatoes reminding him of why he was at the store on his Tuesday evening off. Oddly enough, he needed them to make some soup... rotisserie chicken tortilla soup... later this week. It was fairly cheap to make and so Ben wondered what Rey had going on in her life to rely on the canned kind instead, but he quickly shook that thought away. She wasn't his to worry about.
"Shit, why am I trying to quit smoking?" He asked himself as he dropped a couple cans of fire roasted tomatoes in his basket, that familiar building tug in his chest reminding him it was time for a cigarette. Today was the start of his second recent quitting attempt, though it should be more aptly called cutting back.
Ben took a deep breath once he got outside after finishing his shopping, the tug in his chest almost painful now, and set his bag down on the sidewalk to free his hands. He patted desperately at his pockets and pulled out a pack of... gum. This wasn't what he needed, but Tai insisted replacing cigarettes with something else after his failed attempt to use a vape would help the cravings. So Ben popped a piece of tutti fruiti in his mouth, trying to chew away the tug, but it wasn't lessening.
"This is ridiculous," he mumbled and picked up his bag, walking back into the store.
On his way back to check-out, Ben had to walk through the produce section because this store's layout made you go all the way around and loop to the exit. The bunches of bright reddish beets caught his eye and he paused, but the clawing at his brain for a smoke didn't allow him time to think about why he was drawn to beets so he just snatched a couple bunches from the pile and went on his way.
The late summer sun had set even more to nearly dark when Ben left the store again, now with his beets resting on top of his bag and a pack of cigarettes and lighter clutched in his hand. He quickly dropped the bag outside with a thunk, his hands shaking as he peeled away the pack's wrapping then smacked it against his palm a few times. Once lit, he took a deep drag, the monster inside him immediately lulled and content. Tai would be disappointed, but Ben wasn't going to let his best friend's reaction ruin his currently improving mood. Someone had always been disappointed in him so it was a reaction he was long now accustomed to.
When he got home, he set about preparing his simple dinner. Pesto pizza topped with some of the rotisserie chicken he bought at the store. He already had the dough, tomtoes, and a package of shredded cheese in the fridge plus a jar of pesto he made the other day. So all he had to do was roll out the dough, shred some of the chicken, then assemble and bake. Easy. So that's exactly what he did.
Once the pizza was in the oven, Ben stared at the bunches of beets sitting on the counter. Why did he buy these? He drummed his fingers on the countertop, thinking. His row of potted herbs caught his eye, especially... "Hit it with some rosemary," he said Rey's words to himself.
He spun around to set the temperature on the second oven to preheat it then turned back to his beets and rinsed them in the sink. Next, he sliced each one in half and dumped the slices into a bowl along with some crushed garlic, sherry vinegar, a bit of fresh thyme, and two sprigs of rosemary snipped from his plant. The fresh garlic and herbs smelled nice and he smiled, thinking of Rey mixing her own rosemary into her soup as he mixed the ingredients in a bowl. Maybe he could tell her about this someday, if it turned out edible. It could be awful, but first he had to cook it so he dumped the ingredients onto a pan and put it in the oven.
The timer buzzed so he opened the other oven to check on his pizza. It was perfect. As he cut it into slices, his mind wandered to Rey and her rosemary soup. Ben couldn't wait to see her again, but what a fool he was not asking for her number. He wouldn't make that mistake again. But the universe often had other plans for him that didn't go the way he expected, which led to a falling out with his family. It's why he led a lonely life as head chef at one of Snoke's restaurants instead of the one his family owned, his only good friends his cigarettes and Tai. Maybe that's why he couldn't quit. But now he found himself yearning for something more... Rey. Rey and rosemary.