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“Why do we have to be here so damn early? I wanted to sleep,” Lorna grumbled, kicking the shopping cart forward.
Erik crossed ‘pasta’ off the shopping list as he put the carton in the cart. “You can sleep when we get home,” he said, scanning the shelves for the rice as they walked down the aisle. “And it’s not that early.”
“No no, you misunderstand me. I meant that it’s too early for normal people.” She steered the cart around a ninety-degree corner; her powers the only thing saving her from toppling over. “ I actually need to sleep, and yet you drag me up at fuck o’clock in the morning to go grocery shopping. Why do I even have to come with? It’s not like it’s rocket science to get the damn things in the cart, go to the checkout and pay for them.”
Erik took hold of the cart without his hands, causing her to come to a rough halt. “Language, Lorna.”
“I’m just expressing myself,” Lorna said, her lips curling back from her teeth. When Erik had told her she wouldn’t have time to shower and wash her hair or they were going to be late, she’d been positively livid. A screaming fight had ensued, but in the end, she’d pushed a beanie over her head. Now, her green fringe sticked out from under it, wild and frizzy. “Just voicing my opinion.”
“Cut it out; we do this every week, and you shouldn’t stay up until five anyways.” Erik bored his eyes into her green ones. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you last night.”
He’d woken up at around four, linens and images of a nervous dream sticking to his skin and to distract himself from it, he’d taken a tour to the bathroom, passing by Lorna’s room. The light hadn’t been on, but he had felt the undeniable clicking of keyboard keys on his way back. “I thought you were old enough to monitor your sleep schedule, but apparently I’m wrong.”
She stuck her jaw out. “Well, excuse me for being the only one in this family to actually socialize. It was noon in Germany!”
Ignoring her, Erik pointed out, “You have friends in your own time zone. Socialize with them, instead of holing up in your room like a hermit.”
“None of them forces me up at fucking eight o’clock on a Saturday!”
At that Erik, felt something snap once again. “Lorna,” he hissed. “Don’t make a scene.”
She didn’t stomp her foot at that, but it was a near thing. “At least you could have waited for me shower! Not just barge into my room and order me up! I hate it when you do that! And it doesn’t matter that you knock when you don’t even wait for my answer!” she spit, baring her teeth, cheeks splotched in anger. “It’s my personal space and you don’t give a fuck about it!”
Lorna sent him a death-glare before kicking the half-full cart a good twenty feet ahead and disappeared around a corner, wheels screeching.
Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Erik huffed out a breath. He pushed down the frustrations as to not pull her and cart right back. It would only make matters worse. Instead, looked down at the next item on the list. Cereal. Then cheese, and milk. Which were in the other end of the supermarket. He looked around the aisle one more time before he headed in the direction of the wheats.
Saturday morning as it was – way too early for most – the shop was nearly empty. There was an elderly couple by the vegetable stand and the odd twenty-something that clearly hadn’t even gone to bed yet, clutching a six-pack of Red Bull to her chest, but otherwise it was quiet. The cashiers were nicer, their tolerance still somewhat high thanks to the lack of pent-up frustration – and it all made for the perfect time to shop in peace, really.
Fighting with Lorna was always exhausting. The smallest of things got blown out of proportion, as if she actively looked for something to interpret as an insult, just to blow off some steam. The week had gone downhill from the start. Monday he’d told her to hang her coat in the wardrobe rather than just tossing it over the couch. He hadn’t meant anything by it, just a request to try and keep the house from turning into a dump, but somehow he’d been patronizing and condescending and she’d stormed out, leaving her coat just where it wasn’t supposed to be.
The rest of the week had gone in the same token. She’d been all but nuclear, right up until this morning’s fall out, when the meltdown had happened. Which had been nothing more than an attempt to cheer her up. The Indonesian tea she loved so much had already been steeping on the counter when he open her door. And what had that gotten him?
A pillow to the head followed by a “get the fuck out of my room!”
The diary products were tucked away in the far corner of the shop, right by the freezers. Erik grabbed hold of a cut of cheese, balancing it on the cereal box as he held the door open with his foot to pull out a carton of milk.
“Good morning,” a familiar voice called out from behind him.
Catching the closing door with his back, Erik snapped his head up; nearly braining himself on the upper edge of the fridge. Over his shoulder, he saw Charles leaning casually against his half-full cart, smiling all the way up to his eyes. His freckled cheeks were red from the winds outside and he’d pressed what looked like a hand-knit hat over his ears.
“Looks like you’d need a cart for all that,” he said, nodding towards the growing number of things in Erik’s hands.
“I have one. Lorna took it.” Erik replied, catching the cheese just before it fell to the floor. “I see you’ve been busy.”
Charles looked down at his large collection of items – lots of ready-mades and seriously lacking in greens. “What can I say? Empty fridge, empty stomach, bad time management and procrastination. That’s what brings me here.”
“Ah,” was all Erik could say.
Ever since he’d realized that Charles was, in fact, probably interested (in something, something more and vague and undefinable and impossible), he’d tried his best to keep everything as normal as he could. Tried being the key word, as he once again found his eyes drawn to a point just to the right of Charles’ face, like some nervous school boy not being able to look his crush in the eye.
“Does she usually run away on her own?” Charles said, the wheels of his cart squeaking slightly as he leant forward, grinning.
“No. Not really. She’s just a little –” Erik tipped the milk to indicate hellbent on picking a fight – “today.”
“Ah. Bad day?”
Something like concern crossed Charles’ face, probably since the only bad side of Lorna he’d seen was the docile one that lay passed out on his ridiculous cardigans during class. Erik had told him about her other side, unprompted, during a few Saturday nights, but there was a big difference between hearing it and seeing it in action.
“Bad week,” Erik muttered, causing Charles to huff out a warm laugh, smile widening.
“Ah, I see. Only thing to arm yourself against that is with kind words and ice cream, I’ve figured.”
Erik raised his eyebrows. “When did you have to use that knowledge?”
“It’s applicable to all bad moods, really. But my sister, Raven, is quite a few years younger than me.” Charles explained, waving a hand. “Besides, she returned the favor during exam seasons.”
Erik readjusted his grip on the slipping cereal box and took in this new information. Charles then bumped him lightly on the hip with the cart. “So, what’s her flavour?” he asked.
“What?”
“You are lacking the remedy for your problem. The kind words I’m certain you’ve already tried, so let’s go fetch the second ingredient!”
Kind words was definitely stretching the truth to its breaking point, but as Charles set off towards the freezers, Erik fell into his step.
They were in the middle of a discussion whether lemon (Erik) or mint chocolate chip (Charles) was the best cure for moods, when Lorna decided that she’d had enough of sulking around the shop and needed to take it out on someone.
As she came to a screeching halt right before Erik’s tendons, she wore her anger like a metaphorical cloud over her head. “Are you done yet?” she said, a sharpness in her voice. “I’ve gotten everything apart from the damn cheese because I couldn’t find it, so can we go home now?”
Erik turned his head, just so slightly to look at her out of the corner of his eye. In his head, he implored her to for once this hellish week, just this once, to put on a good face and be nice. Two minutes was all he asked for. That his thoughts were more than likely loud enough to blare through Charles’ head like a foghorn was nothing compared to Lorna showing her bad side now.
Charles peeked his head around his back. “Good morning, Lorna! You do have perfect timing, don’t you?”
There was a brief pause in which Lorna’s face went through a rapid succession of emotions. “Hi, Mr. Xavier,” she replied after a bit. “And what?”
“What do you prefer: lemon or mint chocolate chip?” Charles said, holding up the two tubs for comparison. “Your father claims lemon, but I disagree.”
Lorna stared at him before she gathered herself; shaking her head minutely. “Mint chocolate chip, I guess?” she said, hedging the word at the end as she frowned.
“Ha, see? What did I say? Always go with the mint,” Charles grinned and put the tub on top of the cereal box in Erik’s arms. “You can never go wrong with it.”
“Guess you can’t,” Erik said as he dumped his items in the now available cart. While they hadn’t been heavy, the awkward grips and sharp edges had left his arms slightly sore. “I should probably have known better though.”
“Well, maybe you should take a chance at me more often, Erik,” Charles said. His eyes seemed bigger than usual as he then added, “Who knows, I might be the one in the right.”
Erik stared at him. Charles wet his lips, his face holding some indistinguishable emotion and Erik swallowed. He was just about to answer when Lorna cleared her throat.
“Excuse me. Dad? Can we go home now?”
Snapping out of whatever the hell that had been, Erik looked back at her. “Yeah. Absolutely,” he said, eyes darting back to Charles for a millisecond, then back to her. “Sure. I got the rest. Lorna, do you want something else?”
“Whatever, let’s just go.” Lorna rolled her eyes, the skin around them tight. “Now, please?”
Erik chanced a quick glance at Charles, but he was just smiling his soft, warm smile. “You should get going. See you at my place tonight?”
“For grading? Yeah,” was all Erik has time to say, before Lorna took hold of the zipper in his jacket and physically pulled him from the scene.
He wasn’t sure that he imagined Charles’ chuckle in his mind.
They made it through the checkout without further incident. Lorna packed the items into the canvas bags and Erik handed her the car keys while he steered the cart back to the holding pen. When he came back, just about to the start the ignition, he looked at her again. She was staring out the window, biting down on her lip.
“What now?” Erik asked.
She puffed out a breath. Sucked it in again as she stared at her hands. “Okay. I know I said that he likes you and stuff, but for the love of God, don’t do it in front of me!”
“You’re the one who ran off,” Erik pointed out, but he could feel himself starting to smile. “I had no idea I was going to run into him.”
Her face twisted into a couple grimaces. “I didn’t – what I mean is – argh, it doesn’t matter!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You should blame Charles. He started it.”
“I do not need to know that, oh my God.” She groaned. “Also, you should know that I don’t like lemon ice cream unless there’s no other alternative. Who does that?”
Erik looked out at the empty parking lot. “So you wouldn’t be opposed to it?”
She didn’t answer immediately, even though it was obvious they weren’t talking about ice cream anymore. “I have told you like fifty times that you have my damn approval – I just don’t want to see it in action, okay?” she muttered after a while. “It makes me cringe.”
On impulse, Erik reached over and smoothed the frizzy fringe out of her eyes. She had dark circles under them, but she didn’t flinch away like she had all week. Instead, she looked back at him, her green gaze steady.
“You are my daughter and will always be my first priority.” Erik said. “I promise.”
At that though, she twisted away. There was a bit of colour high on her cheeks as she stared out the window. “Yeah yeah, I know, I know. Can you drive now? I want to go home and nap.”
“Sure thing,” Erik said and put the car in reverse.