So I’m really surprised when I find cake mix. And candles. I toss both into the little red plastic basket that’s hanging over my arm. Then I also get a tube of frosting, and a can of frosting, because…well…frosting. Then as I walk through the aisles, I see a novelty t-shirt that says: my duck is bigger than your duck! He needs that shirt.
I’ve seen him walking through the complex with his little duck following along behind him. It’s a-freakin’-dorable and I’ve wanted more than once to go over and ask him if I can pet it. But he’s avoiding me. He knows he’s avoiding me. I’m aware that he’s avoiding me. Now everyone is aware that he’s avoiding me, so I feel like it’s best to let him do his thing.
But I can’t do that today, because today is his birthday. I know it’s his birthday because his birthday is on the same day of the month as mine, but it falls one month before. He spent a full thirty days teasing me about being a baby, when he was thirteen for a whole month while I still had to be twelve.
I don’t know if he has plans for his birthday, but I do know that I’m not going to let it go by with no one the wiser. I’m going to make him a cake, and I’m going to deliver it to him with a poorly sung song, and he’s going to smile at me, and then he’s going to blush, and I’m going to love every second of his discomfort.
I go to pay for my purchases, and the guy at the counter stares at me hard. I look down at myself to be sure there’s no huge stain on me from breakfast, but I’m clean. “What?”
He smiles and leans his torso on the counter, resting on his elbows. “You’re not from around here,” he says.
I smile back. “You don’t remember me, do you?” I lay my hand on my chest. “Abigail Marshall? Maimi Marshall is my grandmother.”
His grin grows. “I do remember you. You were always with Ethan.” He looks toward the parking lot. “Speak of the devil,” he says softly.
Suddenly the door opens, and I look up when I hear the bell over the door. It’s Ethan. I quickly try to hide my purchases by shoving them back into the basket. I cover the cake up with the shirt and also make sure that’s unreadable.
The guy frowns. “You don’t have to worry about him, Abigail,” he says. “He’s harmless.” He glares at me. “He’s honestly one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. I can’t figure out why the people in this town can’t get over their hatred for him.” He clucks his tongue disapprovingly.
“I need to get a few more things,” I say, as I dash back down the aisle to hide.
“Morning, Shy,” I hear Ethan say. “Everything going your way?”
Ethan walks right past me, and I stare at the shelves in front of me and try to make myself look small and unassuming.
Suddenly, he stops right next to my ear. “If you didn’t want me to know it was you, you should have put some of that hair away,” he says. He tugs a lock of my hair, which makes me chuckle.
“You suck,” I reply. I shove my basket behind my back. “Don’t look at my purchases,” I warn, as I shake my finger at him.
“Oh, see, now I want to see what you have in that basket,” he says, as he tries to look around me. I volley from side to side blocking him. “Abigail Marshall!” he sings out. “Are you buying porn?”
I gasp out a laugh. Shy barks out a laugh, too. He’s full-on leaning on the counter now so that he can watch us.
“Shy, I bet you didn’t even know who she was, did you?” Ethan calls out.
“Soon as I saw you two together, it came right back to me,” Shy calls back.
“She’s nosy and she smells like lemons all the time, but she’s pretty nice.”
I stand up a little taller. “I do not smell like lemons,” I mutter.
“You always have,” he says. He rubs his hands together like they’re cold. “So, what are you buying?”
“None of your business,” I reply as I lift my nose into the air a little.
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” He nods. “Okay. Fine.” He grabs a shopping basket from a nearby stand of them. “But don’t you look in my basket.”
He’s being playful and funny, and he’s so damn cute. He looks really good with the haircut, but I can see that he hasn’t shaved since I shaved the thick beard from his face, and his cheeks are covered in stubble.
“I like the new look!” Shy calls out to him.
“You can thank Abigail for the new me,” he says with a mock bow in Shy’s direction. “She hooked me up with a pair of scissors.” He paws the top of my head, his fingers spread wide as he gives me a scruff. I try to duck away from him, but he’s so cute now that he’s playing, I don’t want him to stop. “She told me she was tired of looking at my ugly face. Then she set out to make me brand new. And pretty.”
Shy guffaws. “Well, we have her to thank, then. It’s a mighty big improvement!”
Ethan walks over to the grocery aisle and throws a few things in his basket. He hides it behind his back, so I won’t look inside. Now I’m curious as all hell about what a man like him needs from the store.
The door chimes again, and Ethan sees who it is, walks straight to the counter, says something quietly to Shy, who rings him up quickly and lets him pay. Then he dashes out the door as quickly as he arrived.
I walk up to the counter. “What just happened?”
Shy looks toward the couple that just walked in. They’re staring out the front window toward where Ethan is backing out of his parking spot, looking angry. “He doesn’t care much for people talking about him,” Shy says softly, his eyes still cutting over to look at the pair.
“Why are they talking about him?”
He stares at me. “You don’t know about what happened?”
“No. Was it big? It must have been huge.”
He nods. “Some people around here blame him for an accident that happened.”
“Oh.” I look at the people, who are still whispering fiercely to themselves as they watch the taillights of Ethan’s truck get smaller in the distance.
“I say the man has done his time and they need to leave him alone. He paid for it.”
“Time?” I am thoroughly confused now.
Shy glares at me. “I thought you said you know him.”
“I do. Well, I did. A long time ago.” I unload my purchases.
He picks up the box of cake mix. “Somebody got a birthday?” he asks, like he’s ready to change the subject.
“Yeah, that jackass that just walked out of here.”
Shy’s face softens. “This is for Ethan?”
I nod as heat creeps up my cheeks.
“Then you’re all right in my book, Abigail,” he says. “You can come back here anytime.”
He picks up the shirt and reads it. “He takes that stupid duck everywhere.” He rolls his eyes. “I think it’s good he’s got something to love. Nobody deserves love more than Ethan.” He heaves a sigh and puts the candles in the bag without ringing them up. “They’re on me,” he explains. “Since it’s his birthday.” He grins at me as he hands me my bag. His voice drops down to a whisper. “I have a feeling you’re going to be good for Ethan.”