Expect Nothing

My legs felt numb as I stood in place for hour five of my shift with only an eternity to go. Staring into the pea green walls that were supposed to make moms feel like whatever they bought was healthy, I could only see a dried vomit color smeared over the concrete barriers of my prison.

“You’re saving for Scotland, Andrew, think of the green hills,” I told myself as the vomit, pea green mocked me.

Beep. I scanned a value-size pack of whole-grain Pop Tarts.

“All the essentials today, right?” The woman in the checkout line joked, with all the vigor of someone who loved their life as much as I loved Busch’s.

I pushed the excess air out of my lungs on command. “Heh,” I laughed in compliance still lost in the putrid green.

“Enjoy your day,” I heard a robotic voice that sounded vaguely like mine. Interrupting the endless green, an old woman entered the store who looked like she was out of a children’s novel. With dark skin the color of organic honey she walked in wearing a brown dress, and a thick and itchy looking cardigan – one your Grandma would wrap around you insisting you were cold – and a felt hat that only Nanny Mcphee and this lady would voluntarily wear. She had a steady gait and a calm, focused, Mona-Lisa-smile, holding nothing but a single bill.

Two children, in the liminal age of not a cute baby but not a socialized toddler either, ran in, decked out in matching North Face jackets and Ugg boots. Both nearly knocked the old woman over without even noticing as they raced toward the bakery section. The old woman’s Mona Lisa smile, to my surprise, grew into a fuller, knowing, close lipped smile and she maintained her smooth gait and walked steadily toward the bakery section in the wake of the Tasmanian Daredevils.

A younger woman, who had to be the mother based on her matching attire, walked in briskly. Much like her children she hardly noticed as she almost collided with the older woman in her path. “No, no – it’s not frivolous, Matthew is an athlete and he needs the Gatorade to fuel his game, Anthony – I don’t care if Powerade is cheaper, wins come at a price.” Waving her hands as if trying to churn the air, she talked at her phone at a volume loud enough for me to listen from the checkout lanes.

How considerate of her to include me in the conversation, I thought.

*****

In all the time it had taken the older woman to pick out a single loaf of bread, the mom and her two kids had managed to fill a mini-cart.

“I wish I was checking out your load right now,” the mom laughed looking back at the old woman who suddenly became visible. “Some of us still have a family to feed,” she said as a reassurance to herself, but loudly enough to counter judgement she assumed was coming from the older woman.

“I just want to say that I’m sorry in advance for this transaction.” She started digging out crumpled ones and fives and coins, and adding them to a growing pile in front of the cash register, becoming increasingly agitated with each bill she fished out. “I thought I had enough but now I can’t be sure.”

The old woman stood patiently behind her in line. How could the mom not think to let her go ahead of her with only one single item, I thought? But the old woman just stared ahead, complete calm and contentedness in her eyes. With her hands folded in front of her clutching her bread and her single bill, she looked down at the kids with endearment now and then, but other than that did not break her gaze or even shuffle her feet.

Still intently focused on her coin purse, the mom slammed a handful of pennies onto the table, setting off a cascade of coins and loose bills onto the floor.

She threw her hands up near her face and took a violent step back, little Matthew just barely dodging impact. “You know what? I’m sorry!” Her face once red from embarrassment grew redder and her floppy bun almost entirely fell out as she shook her head with every word. “I’m sorry that my husband cancelled my credit card and now we have to deal with this!” she exclaimed, spitting out the word husband like it was a cuss word.

The mom didn’t seem to be showing any intent to pick up the fallen money and clearly had some things to work through, so I bent down and started gathering it. How many more paychecks till I could quit?

“Matt you’re gonna have to put back those fruit snacks buddy,” she said exasperated and exhausted by her brief catharsis.

“I don’t want to!!!!” Matthew grew as red as his mother and stomped on the ground.

The mom seemed ready to plunge into another breakdown as her hands flew up again, her fingers tensed and stretched as wide as her eyes and she began to count.

“One… TWO…-”

“Ma’am,” the old lady’s soft voice somehow had the ability to pierce through a parenting moment none of us wanted to hear.  I remained crouched behind the counter collecting the woman’s fallen, crumpled cash.

“Allow me this time.”

I popped my head up above the counter to see her warm eyes enveloped by brown folded curtains of skin. Her crows feet and smile lines deepened as she so subtly smiled at me offering a $100 bill.

“Oh no I couldn’t possibly accept,” said the mother, shocked,

I looked into the mother’s eyes which looked like they definitely could accept and then back into the old lady’s. It was confirmed that this was the way the groceries would be paid for.

The mom and her children left the store not before she scolded her kids to thank the nice lady. They exited as loudly as they came in.

The old woman had just barely enough money left to pay for her bread. She stood by patiently as I started having technical difficulties with the register. I was embarrassed to make her wait any longer.

“Ma’am, honestly we’re about to close soon, if you just want to take the bread I can buy it for you and you can get out of here. I mean you’re only buying one loaf, it’s really nothing.” I said watching the color wheel spin endlessly on the screen.

She adjusted her felt hat and folded her hands again in front of her. “It may be nothing, but nothing can be all you need when you live alone like me.”

She looked into my eyes and I felt bad for calling her purchase ‘nothing.’ Stupid, stupid, I thought.

“No that’s alright, I have the time and the money today and I plan to spend them both rather than take yours.” The corners of her smile kissed her cheeks, freckles with age spots.

“I do appreciate the offer though. If I needed it, I’d certainly accept.”

I smiled back at her feeling more comfortable.

The color wheel disappeared and the register started working again. Thank God. I took the woman’s $1.25. We both saw that with tax she was a penny short.

“It’s on me,” I said jokingly as if my act of kindness came anywhere near hers. I fished a penny out of my pocket.

The woman’s face relit back into her wide smile. “Thank you, darling,” she said sincerely.