Love Under Quarantine

“Keep for future use,” he tells each person as they walk in.

When we come to the door, he holds up a hand. “Can’t go in. We’re keeping the numbers down to only thirty or so people at a time. You need to wait over there. See the blue tape on the sidewalk. Stand on one of those lines and we’ll let you in after someone exits.”

We both take a mask, put it on, and stand on a blue line.

“Does this mask make my ass look big?” she jokes, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Your ass is perfection.”

“Thanks.”

Someone walking on the opposite side of the street coughs and she flinches. We both do.

Shit just got real.

It is easy to pretend nothing much is happening when you are on the twentieth floor of a high rise, happily carrying on about your life. Safely away from interacting with the world at large. It is a far different story when you’re boots-on-the-ground, being told you can’t grocery shop without a mask, and that you must do so in small numbers.

“I’m scared.” Sadie’s eyes are on me, her hands trembling as she lifts them and crosses them over her chest. “This is all so…I dunno.”

“I wish I could hold you.”

“Me too. The thought that something as simple and everyday as grabbing a carton of milk and a loaf of bread could mean catching a super contagious virus that’s killed thousands is insane.” She turns around and faces the clerk.

More people stand in line on the blue strips behind us. It’s six people deep when two customers exit the store and we’re waved in.

Once inside, we each take a small cart and use antibacterial wipes that the store has provided on the handles and around the rim of the cart.

We pass by the grocery store clerks and I notice a five-feet-wide by three-feet-tall piece of plexiglass separating the clerk from the customer. That’s new. Kind of like sneeze shields when you go to a deli. Still, the whole situation is like something out of a sci-fi film.

“Evan…” Sadie’s voice is small, coated in concern.

“Just breathe through your mask and start with the cheese section. Everyone loves cheese.”

For a minute I watch her stand there and just breathe, then she straightens her spine and puts one foot in front of the other. There is no stopping this girl.

I’m proud of her. And grateful as fuck that I have her in my life right now.* * *

SADIEOkay. I can do this. After all, if football is Evan’s choice of sport, shopping is mine and shops are my natural habitat. Though online shopping and having things delivered to your door is my favorite, I love it all. The thrill of the hunt. The sheer joy of running down the perfect purchase. And sales! Nothing can compare to the rush of a bargain.

In this case, the purchase is cheese. First comes mozzarella because pizza is life, yo. Cheddar for when I get the nibbles, and also some Monterey Jack. Next come Kraft Singles because I’m apparently trying to relive my childhood.

“That’s a lot of cheese,” mumbles Evan, standing back the requisite six feet.

“Cheese is healthy.”

“Sure. Sort of. In much smaller quantities.” He grabs his own block of cheddar and a package of swiss cheese singles.

“We’re meant to be stocking up for a week or so, right?” I ask with a shrug.

He tips his chin. “Are you part mouse? Because if some small cute percentage of you is rodent, I think I’d prefer to know sooner rather than later.” He grins.

“Quitting football to go into stand-up comedy, I see. Can’t say I’m a hundred percent behind that decision.” I raise my chin trying to give my best haughty appearance.

“Got to have something to fall back on since you axed my singing career.” He chuckles. I can see it in his dreamy blue eyes. They’re a dark hue like the deepest, wildest uncharted parts of the ocean.

It’s hard to be scared when he’s making me laugh. Internally, of course. No need to actually encourage him. Being with Evan is like when you’re on a rollercoaster and about to go over the edge. Your belly is a mess of excitement and you don’t know whether to laugh or shout. Exciting and scary and unexpected.

But we should just be friends. That would be wise.

I move my cart along, inspecting the pre-packaged deli meats, trying to focus. All the bacon is wiped out—not even one straggler. Hmm, ham sounds good, along with some salami. Both make for quick, easy snacks when I’m working.

Evan’s gaze flits over the cheese selection and he grabs two huge tubs of cottage cheese. Bleh. What’s that for I wonder. I move onto the next cold case while he all but empties out the cold cuts. All of that meat. He’s such a caveman. All brawny efficiency as he makes his way through the cold goods section. I can just imagine him hunting yaks or something in a fur mankini, striding across the plains with his spear in hand. And by spear I mean the actual weapon—that’s not a euphemism or anything. Keep your mind out of the gutter, Sadie.