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The grocery run didn’t start off great. Present ran into the door. It wasn’t even an oops-I-forgot-I’m-alive-and-tangible mistake. He just hadn’t realized he’d been approaching the exit door instead of the entry door. Easy mistake, still embarrassing.
“Come on,” a familiar voice said, catching Present’s attention. “The doors are clearly labeled. Red and green! Christmas colors! Your favorite!”
“Maybe I’m red-green colorblind.”
“I know for a fact that you’re not.”
“What are you doing here, Clint?” Present asked under his breath as he grabbed a basket from the stack by the door. Already, another customer was staring at him. He hoped Clint left soon. As much as he cherished his visits, it was embarrassing talking to an invisible person in public.
“Thought I’d stop by,” Clint said casually, falling in step beside Present. He tucked his hands into his pockets, drawing Present’s attention to his sweater. It wasn’t a Christmas sweater, not like Present wore when he was a Ghost, but it wasn’t Clint’s usual tight-fit business casual either. “Didn’t expect you to be out and about in the mortal world.”
“Is that Future’s hoodie?”
“Yeah.” Clint tugged at the edge and glanced down to look at the design on the front. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple grim reaper logo that Future got a kick out of. Still, Present found it odd Clint of all people had it. “You like it?”
“It’s, um, big on you.”
“Yeah. That’s why I swiped it. Past tried explaining the whole girls in oversized hoodies aesthetic to me last week and I didn’t get it. Thought I’d give it a shot. Still don’t get it but I’m feeling pretty cozy. Guy has good taste, surprisingly.”
“Alright.” Present sighed, already somewhat tired of Clint’s antics. Or, at least that’s what he’d say if Clint pressed. The reality was he didn’t really want to listen to how well Clint got along with his old friends. Wearing Future’s hoodies was a detail a bit too intimate for Present. He didn’t really want to think about the implications of that.
“Woah, woah, woah, hombre,” Clint said as Present walked deeper into the store. “Skipping the produce aisle?”
“I’ll hit it last,” Present told him. He paused for a moment, thinking, and reached into his pocket to fish out his phone.
“Okay, first off, hitting produce last kills the whole feng shui of the shopping experience. Second, who are you calling? You better not be sicking Kimberly on my ass. I mean, it’s a great ass but I don’t really want Kimberly on it.”
Calling Kimberly wasn’t a bad idea. She could probably shut Clint down if he got to be too much, or at least distract him long enough for him to get his shopping done. Present didn’t actually mind Clint’s presence all that much though, or he wouldn’t if he didn’t look insane talking to him. “I’m just pretending to be on the phone so people don’t stare.”
“Oh. Yeah. Smart move. So where we headed if we’re not getting fruits and veggies?”
“Baking aisle. I’m out of sugar-”
“Out of sugar? Sweet guy like you?”
“-and low on flour. Did a lot of baking before visiting your brother and niece.”
“You visited Owen and Wren? When? Why?”
“The holiday season just passed. You know that.”
“I didn’t know you hung out with my family for Christmas though!”
“Christmas Eve,” Present corrected as he turned into the aisle. “Kimberly too. You know, for the anniversary of your…”
He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it. Clint’s death, even a year later, was a sore subject. He still saw Clint all the time but it still hurt pretty bad. Maybe still seeing Clint made it hurt worse. Hard to grieve when you still saw the person you were grieving everywhere you went. And literally, not even in a figurative sense. Clint popped up anywhere and anytime he pleased. Present shook himself and began busying himself searching for the flour, crouching down to skim over the labels.
“So what’s the next baking project?” Clint said a little too loudly. Clearly, he wasn’t fond of discussing his death either.
“I’m not sure. Wren was getting into some paper mache for art class and that seems fun. Might get into it myself. You just need flour and water to make the paste, I think.” Present righted himself, flour in hand. “Here we go.”
“Flowers?” Clint gushed, voice taking that high note it always did when he was doing a bit. “For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have.”
“And… sugar!”
“Oh, you’re too sweet.”
“You already made that joke, Clint.”
“Doesn’t mean it's not true. So, what’s Wren doing with paper mache?”
“Jack-o-Lanterns.”
“In January?”
“Well, no. Early December. For art class,” Present explained, depositing the sugar and flour into the basket and moving on. “The project ran a little long.”
“Two months too long?” Clint shook his head. “Boy, if I were alive and a better person, I’d have a word with those teachers of hers.”
“I’m sure Wren’s teachers are doing their best,” Present admonished and stepped out of the aisle. “Butter! Forgot about that. I ran out.”
“How do you run out of butter?”
“I tried using up the rest of my groceries before leaving town,” Present told him. “Wasn’t sure if you could freeze butter.”
“You’re freezing shit? Man, you’re really getting this human thing down.”
“Why thank you,” Present responded, flashing a smile. He knew Clint was just poking fun but his words were validating nonetheless. Being human was hard but he was trying his best. It was nice to hear someone recognize it. It wasn’t like his mortal friends knew that this was all new to him.
“Hey, get this one,” Clint said, pointing at a box on the second shelf. “It’s on sale. Buy 2 get 1 free. Good to stock up if you don’t have any butter at home.”
“It’s club card only.”
“You don’t have a club card? Hey, try putting in my number when you go to check out. I think I had mine on automatic payment. They probably don’t cancel club cards when people die, right?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Didn’t hurt to try, right? Still… “A bit dishonest though.”
“A little dishonesty never hurt anyone,” Clint responded cheekily. “I made a living off it, didn’t I?”
“Well, you’re not making a living anymore, are you?”
“Touché but that was kind of cheesy. Hey, you probably need cheese right? Get some havarti. That shit’s good.”
“Thought you’d be into cheese fancier than havarti,” Present commented as he began perusing through the cheeses.
“I grew up poor. Havarti is fancy cheese for poor people. And it’s good. You been on the grilled cheese subreddit? People nut over this stuff over there.”
“Nuts on grilled cheese?”
“Ew, no. Not what I meant and you know it. Keeping you away from the nut aisle now.”
Present shrugged. “I’m allergic anyway. We didn’t eat a lot of nuts in the nineteenth century.”
“Crazy,” Clint commented. “What about milk?”
“Loved the stuff. Super dangerous to drink back then but still loved it,” Present told him, turning away from the butter to wander down to where the milk was kept. It was incredibly convenient how all the dairy products were close together. Kudos to whoever designed the layout of grocery stores. He opened the door and grabbed a big carton. “Still do.”
“Lucky duck. Me, I was badly lactose intolerant. Fucked me up something real bad. Crazy time on the toilet anytime I drank the stuff.”
“Wait, milk isn’t supposed to make your stomach feel like that?” Present asked and Clint paused in his steps to stare at him. Present tried his hardest to keep a straight face but the look on Clint’s face was too much. “Nah, I’m just messing with you.”
Clint exhaled and bent over, pacing a few steps before returning to Present’s side. “You got me there. For a moment I- gee.”
“You really think I’m that dumb?”
“Yes. Cute dumb, not stupid dumb, but still dumb.”
Present felt a warmth bubble up inside him, which was weird since he was still in the refrigerator section. Maybe he had to use the bathroom? No, he was pretty sure he was able to tell when he had to use the bathroom now. He had to do it several times a day, afterall. “Let’s hurry this up. We can get eggs on the way out. The less time I spend holding them, less time I have to drop them.”
“So produce time?”
“Yup. Produce time.”
“Yes!” Clint cheered, thrusting his fists into the air as they wandered back toward the front of the store to where the produce awaited. “I’ve been saving up fruit and vegetable puns this whole time. Just you wait, I have some good ones.”
Present internally groaned. It was fun having Clint around but he could live without the food puns. It was out of character for Clint too. He was a funny guy, sure, but puns were beneath him. “Owen gave me a good gravy recipe. The internet told me you should try adding mushrooms to gravy to give it that something extra.”
“Mushrooms: the sexiest vegetable.”
“Mushrooms are fungi, not vegetables.”
“I know I’m a fun guy but what are you?” Clint asked, grinning. This time, Present actually groaned out loud. “Yeah, that was bad. I know. It was better than the other mushroom joke I was going to make though.”
“What was the other mushroom joke?”
“Mushrooms kind of look like… you know. Dongs.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah. I think that one was a bit too on the nose.”
“I’m getting the sliced mushrooms just because of that,” Present decided, taking a container off the shelf and plopping it into his cart. Meanwhile, Clint wandered off to eye some of the other produce. “Tell me if you see anything good.”
“You know, we make a cute-cumber pear,” Clint said, trying and failing to pick up the aforementioned fruits. Present could almost feel his frustration. Not being able to grab things in the mortal world was super annoying. Not as annoying as these puns though. Really, it was so bizarre and out of character for Clint.
“That’s actually a zucchini.”
“You know, some people call their life partners zucchini.”
“Why?”
“Not everyone’s in a traditional relationship. Our sitch is pretty untraditional, wouldn’t you say?”
“Those zucchini actually look pretty good,” Present said, walking over and picking up the zucchini Clint had been trying to grab. “Actually, nevermind. This is super mushy.”
“That sucks. Hey, are these raisins or dates over here?” Clint asked, already several feet away. “Because I like raisins but I’d love a date with you.”
Something suddenly clicked in Present’s mind. “Are you asking me out?”
“Oh my god, yes,” Clint exclaimed, abandoning the raisins and practically throwing himself in front of Present in exasperation. “I’ve been hitting on you, like, this whole time we’ve been here. I’m shocked it took you this long to notice. I mean, I called you sweet and cute. Bros don’t really go for those kinds of compliments. And the penis thing… Actually, that is something a dude would non-flirtatiously say to another dude. But he wouldn’t call him sweet and cute!”
“I… I didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“I literally died for you. I think that’s a pretty strong signal.” Clint paused. “Not that, like, you should feel obligated to reciprocate my feelings just because of that. I don’t want you to- Even if you don’t feel the same way-”
“I- I have those feelings too,” Present told him, lowering the hand that’d been holding the cell phone to his ear the whole time he’d been in the grocery store. Maybe people would think he’s crazy talking to the open air but Present didn’t care about appearances right now. It was all about Clint right now. “The beyond bro feelings.”
“Beyond bro feelings. Right.” Clint’s voice was a bit dry but Present could tell by the look on his face that his insides were fluttering with excitement. “So, uh, what do you say we get out of here and-”
“I still need to get eggs.”
“Oh. Yeah. Right. But after that-”
“And pay for the groceries.”
“You should probably do that. After that though-”
“You said I could try using your club card.”
“...That actually sounds super fun. I don’t even mind waiting for that.”
Present smiled. “After that though.”
Clint matched his smile. “After that we’ll plan that date.”