Holly shopped locally for the supplies she would need at the cottage over
the weekend. She knew the routine well after all these years. The cupboards
would be bare. Nothing could be left over the winter so she needed to stock up
with all the usual staples; salt and pepper, condiments, peanut butter. For
sure, peanut butter, she thought, and laughed.
On the kitchen wall at the cottage there was a wooden plaque, in the
shape of a slice of bread, with the phrase…Man
cannot live by bread alone, he must have peanut butter.
She loved peanut butter, ate it on bread, toast, crackers, even by the
teaspoon right from the jar. It began as a pregnancy craving, and never
diminished after Sarah was born.
The plaque had been a surprise gift from Richard, something he’d found in
the village convenience store on one of his visits to the cottage. She’d loved
the sentiment, and had immediately hung it over the stove.
In the Village IGA, Holly stood in front of the shelves, stocked full of
various brands and types of peanut butter, and the memory hit her with an
unbelievable sense of loss. She felt tears threaten, blinked her eyes to stop
the flow before they began. After all the anger, it was good to have a memory
of something good.
Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed to feel
that Richard had, at least in the beginning, loved her.
With one hand on the shopping cart, she used her other hand to wipe away
the stray tear that had escaped.
“I know just how you feel,” a deep voice said from behind her.
Embarrassed to be caught in such an emotional state, in public, she
turned and looked into the darkest brown eyes she had ever seen. “What?” she
asked flustered and confused.
“I said, I know how you feel. Peanut butter, what a truly god-given gift
it is. Chunky or smooth?”
Holly thought this the strangest conversation she had ever had, yet felt
compelled to answer. “Smooth, the chunky
doesn’t spread well.”
“Exactly,” the man said enthusiastically, reaching by her to select a jar
from the shelf. “Jam, grape jelly or marmalade?”
Holly laughed, getting into the fun of it. “Grape jelly first, jam
second, and never, ever marmalade.”
“Right! I mean, who in their right mind would put marmalade on peanut
butter.” He gave an exaggerated shiver at the thought, and looked at her
seriously. “Okay, here’s the biggie. Peanut butter, banana and…?”
“Mayonnaise,” she quickly answered.
“Be still my heart,” the man said, beating his hand on his chest. “It’s a
match made in heaven.”
She laughed at his antics. Not knowing what to say, she said nothing, and
suddenly felt awkward in the silence. Remembering where she was, what she was
doing, she grabbed her cart and prepared to move on. The stranger seemed to
understand that she was uncomfortable and stepped back.
“I have to go,” she said and quickly grabbed a jar of peanut butter,
tossed it in her cart, and rushed away down the aisle.
She hurried through the remainder of her shopping, aware she’d forgotten
half of the items on her list, but she needed to keep ahead of the handsome
stranger
It was embarrassing to think how long it had been since a man had flirted
with her in such a fun and non-threatening way. While still married, she’d had
other men come on to her, other lawyers or business men, so called friends of
Richard’s. It occurred to her, as she loaded her groceries in the trunk of her
car, that those men might have known that Richard ‘fooled’ around and figured
she would be ‘game’ or easy pickings.
She slammed the trunk closed with both hands and stood, leaning on the
car. It was a disturbing thought because it made her think Miranda wasn’t
Richard’s first dalliance, and she had no way of knowing when, or why, or with
whom he had strayed.
Turning, she reached for the cart to return it to the store when she felt
someone pull it from her hands.
“Trade,” the man from the peanut butter aisle said. He quickly and easily
shoved his cart into hers to return both to the storage area.
“Are you okay?” he asked, one hand on the carts.
“Yes, I’m fine, thanks. Just lost in thought.”
“I’ve got just the thing for that.”
She looked down at the hand extended to her…and saw a familiar orange
package of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. “You look like you could use a
pick-me-up.”
“And Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups are the cure?”
“They can’t hurt.”
She took the candy and smiled as the man walked away pushing the carts.
When she was finally seated behind the wheel of her car, she ripped open
the package and took her first bite of the chocolate and peanut butter
confection. She laughed, for it did brighten her mood. All thoughts of her
marriage to a philandering husband vanished at that moment when she tasted that
sweet treat.
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