Chapter 3

Serena

The wheels of the cart squeaked with the weight of the groceries. Piled high with just a week's worth of food. It could be enough to feed a family of twelve, but it was barely enough for our ravenous house of four. By this point the cart was so heavy Holland gave up on pushing it and gave up the duty to Silas, the strongest out of the four of us. He pushed the overflowing basket with ease, skipping along and occasionally trying to see how far he could shove the cart down the aisle. Each time his shenanigans were thwarted by Holland, a sharp glare made Silas give up for at least twenty minutes before daring to try again.

Val walked over to the cart, four boxes of noodles in hand. He placed each box meticulously into the cart, careful not to topple the tower. Holland scribbled the item off the list, “Ok, that’s everything. Let’s go checkout.”

“Aye aye,” Silas playfully saluted Holland and pushed the cart giddily towards the front. With each push of the cart the towers of food wobbled dangerously, but miraculously he didn’t lose a single item as he maneuvered into the checkout line. 

When the attendant gazed upon our canyon of food, his mouth dropped involuntarily to the floor. “I’ll go get another cart,” I giggled, watching the attendant try desperately to pick his jaw up off the floor.

I walked myself to the stacks of carts at the front of the store, pulling out the biggest cart size they offered. I excavated the cart from the hastily made rows and began wheeling it back towards the checkout line. I parked the cart at the end of the line and the bagger looked at me with such relief I felt an urge to give him a reassuring pat on the back. Instead I offered him an encouraging smile and returned to the other side of the line, helping Silas and Val unload the final few items onto the conveyor belt. 

Once the conveyor belt was overflowing, we stepped back, satisfied with our work. At this point I’d say we were all masters of grocery tetris. Clearly, the other patrons didn’t appreciate our talents because everyone gave us a wide berth, spreading out into other lines even if they were already trailing into the aisles. 

With every person that passed by I could see their horror at the sheer amount of food piled on either side of the operation, either bulging out of the two carts or scattered across the conveyor belt. I was sure some people thought we were crazy, others tried to rationalize, thinking we must work with a shelter or orphanage. Neither were true of course, Silas and Val just had big appetites. 

The attendant finished scanning the last item and rattled off the price, an exorbitant amount of money. Holland didn’t bat an eye at the number, simply pulling out the company credit card. We were lucky that the company paid for all necessary expenses, otherwise we’d never be able to afford the weekly grocery trip or the large cabin in Cascade that we currently inhabit. 

Even though the actual salary we’re paid is even less than a public school teacher, we barely have to spend anything we make because the company can pay for all the essential expenses: food, water, housing, and travel when the job requires it. That means we can tuck away most of our money in a savings account, and by the time we need it there won’t be any need to worry about having enough. I personally haven’t touched my savings account since I became a full time employee. 

After paying for all the groceries, which had pretty much convinced the employees we were millionaires, Val and Silas pushed the two cars out into the parking lot towards the old, red Chrysler Pacifica. Holland popped the trunk and we each began shoving bags into the back of the van, and as the groceries piled up I couldn’t have been more thankful for the endless void that was the Chrysler’s trunk. We managed to get every bag into the trunk without issue. Holland clicked the button and the trunk door crept down and locked with a click.

“Food?” Silas begged with his eyes.

Holland huffed, “Food? I can’t believe you want to get food after all the groceries we just bought.”

“I’m hungry and the drive home is sooo long.”

“It’s a 40 minute drive, you can wait.”

“No I can’t and I’m the one driving, consider it a reward for all my hard work.”

Holland rolled his eyes.

“Please,” Silas plastered on his puppy dog eyes which Holland insisted didn’t work on him, even though he always gave into Silas, puppy eyes or not. 

“It would be nice to go see Harrison, since we’re in town,” I prompted. 

Holland let out a resigned sigh, “fine.”

Silas slapped a sloppy kiss onto Holland's cheek and he rolled his eyes yet again, but this time he couldn’t hide his amused smile. Silas shot me a wink before shooting to the driver’s side door. I giggled under my breath before following him into the car.

“We have to stop by Alma’s first.”

“Noooo,” Silas whined dramatically.

“Just start driving,” Holland demanded.

“Yes sir,” Silas chuckled as he threw the car into reverse. Holland grumbled back at him, but I could tell how much he enjoyed Silas’s antics.

Holland and Silas were like oil and water. Holland was serious, stern, and meticulous. Silas, on the other hand, couldn’t take anything seriously if his life depended on it and he was the most dramatic person you’d ever meet. In spite of all that, the two had fallen in love, and through all their bickering I could feel the love that surrounded them. 

I settled into my seat as we drove deeper into McCall and towards Mrs. Alma’s crystal and tea shop. Everytime we came into town we had to stock up on all the supplies we needed. Groceries were one half and the special herbs at Alma’s was another. The teas had healing properties and the unique items in the shop were perfect for Holland’s work. 

It took just fifteen minutes and Silas was maneuvering the vehicle into the faded lines of a parking spot. Alma’s apothecary was housed in a small gray building with a flat roof. The front was decorated with an eclectic assortment of crystals, feathers, and trinkets. The front of the roof was lined with wind chimes that jingled in the breeze and sung a soothing song. The makeshift piece of paper in the door proclaiming the shop’s name was covered in wrinkles and folds, speaking of its age. Alma always said she would get a professional to plaster the logo on the door, she never really committed to the idea. Holland nagged her about it every time, but I told her it added to the charm of the cozy shop. 

Holland pushed the door open, causing a crow to screech urgently. The crow dampened the urgency of the squawks when it recognized who was walking through the door. George, as the crow was named, flew right over to me, perching on my shoulder. I offered him a gentle stroke on his head, but he quickly flew away when Mrs. Alma walked into the front of the shop, settling on her familiar shoulder instead. 

“Holland, in need of some more ingredients I see.”

“Yes, and a cup of tea would be nice,” Holland rubbed at his temples, soothing away some sort of stress.

Alma just cackled, her gravelly voice catching on a cough. She coughed away the laughter, “So it seems,”

Alma was an old and stout lady. She had round glasses that were so thick her eyes were magnified to a comical extent. Her snow white hair was pulled artfully into a cascade of braids and she wore a mossy green dress that hung below her knees. Her voice was rough from years of smoking, but she no longer smelled like thick nicotine. Instead, she smelled like fragrant flowers, highlighted by the warming scent of teas that floated through the air. 

“Well, go ahead and find what you’re looking for, I’ll brew the tea and some biscuits too!” Alma excitedly rushed off to the back of the shop, searching for the goodies. 

Holland rubbed his temple again, “she didn’t even let me tell her we were just about to go eat, and now she’s getting biscuits.”

Silas placed a hand on his shoulder, “I can always eat Holly, never doubt me.”

Holland rolled his eyes and walked away to gather his items.

“Let’s go sit,” I invited Val.

“Alright,” he nodded and gestured for me to lead the way. 

I moved towards the small black table in the shop’s corner. The table really only fit two people, but there were lots of chairs floating around near the table so that anyone could join in. Even though Alma’s was part tea shop there was only this one table because people generally walk around with their cups. Really, the only use the table gets is when Alma sets down the biscuits and the pot. That’s probably why she hasn’t bothered to buy a bigger one.

Alma emerged from the back, a steaming kettle in her hand, decorated with vibrant green birds with swirling tails. “Go ahead and grab the cups Ren dear.”

I reached over into the glass cabinet that contained clean cups of varying sizes and designs. I pulled out the set of five that matched the pot and set it on the table. Alma set the teapot down shortly after, and then she placed the tower of pastries in the center of the table. “Let me pour you a cup dear.”

“It’s ok, I can pour my own.”

“I insist.” Alma pulled one of the cups off its stack and filled it with steaming tea. The tea was a muddied sort of pink and smelled like fresh fruits. “It’s raspberry chamomile dear, good for your digestion.”

“Thank you.” I delicately grabbed the cup's handle and lifted the tea to my mouth. I gave one solid blow in the tea before carefully taking a sip. It was just the right temperature, not hot enough to burn, but hot enough to warm me from the inside out. Then there was the flavor, a rich earthy taste with bursts of sweetness from the raspberry. “It’s lovely Mrs. Alma.”

“Oh, then I’ll have to give you a few bags.”

“No you don’t-” the sentence died on my lips as Alma disappeared once more into the back of the store.

I looked at Val, hoping he could help me, but he just sipped his tea with a shrug. “Just let her.”

I knew how happy it made Alma when people enjoyed her tea, so I decided Val was right. I should just accept her generosity with a smile. Alma came scrambling back into the room, a box of tea leaves in her arms, “two scoops for a pot should do.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Alma beamed at me and my heart filled with her happiness. Sometimes I worried that she was lonely, especially after her husband passed, but she still had George and all the people that visited her shop. It could never replace the void in her heart, but I rarely felt the bitter tang of loneliness when we came to see her. I felt reassured that she was coping well and still enjoying her life.

“Alma, where are the cedar candles?”

“Hmm, shouldn’t they be on that shelf there?” Alma walked over to the shelf, scanning for the missing candles. “That’s odd. I always put them there. Let me go check the back. We should definitely have a box or two in stock.”

Alma disappeared yet again and Holland was left to place the items he’d gathered on the counter, waiting for the cedar candles. There was some rustling coming from the back: the slide of boxes and the clinking of glasses. At first, the noises were unhurried, but after a moment the shuffling became more frantic. The noise came to such a fervor I was ready to go back and make sure Alma was okay when she emerged from the back looking concerned.

“It seems there are no more candles. I’m not sure how we’d be out of stock. I always have two boxes shipped every month and I never go through them all.”

“It’s okay Alma, don’t worry about it. I still have a few left, we’ll come back next week.”

“Yes, yes. I’ll order some right now and they’ll be ready for you by then.” 

“Thank you Alma, you’re always a big help.”

“Well of course Holland, there aren’t many of us around here with a talent for such things, and I’m much too old now to have any need for it.”

“That’s not true Alma, your wisdom is always valued.”

“Such a flatterer you are,” Alma’s cheeks flushed the slightest pink.

  She may be good at coping with the loneliness, but that doesn't mean it’s gone. She had been exiled in a time when her relationship wasn’t accepted, so being able to meet with someone from her community really made happiness light her soul. I was glad we could come see her at least once a month and chase the loneliness away for even just a moment.

Holland checked the watch on his wrist, “we’ll be going now Alma. I’ll see you again next week.”

“Yes, I’ll see you next week. Would you like me to pack up the rest of the pastries?”

“No need Alma,” Silas said, patting his stomach with satisfaction and looking back at the crumbs crawling around on the desert tower.

Alma laughed jovially, “well you certainly do have an appetite.”

“And I could still eat more!”

Holland looked up at the ceiling in exasperation, “alright let’s get going before Silas starts eating the furniture in his hunger.”

“That’s right, you better hurry or I’ll eat the whole shop.” Silas winked deviously at Alma who only chuckled at the threat to consume her precious shop.

“Just get in the car.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. Bye Alma, see you again next week!”

“Bye Silas,” Alma waved him out the door and Holland quickly followed him with a small wave of his own.

“Go on you two, I’ll see you next week.”

“Bye Mrs. Alma, thank you for the tea.”

“Thank you Alma,” Val offered with a warm smile.

“Of course, the shop has a new atmosphere when you visit. You’re welcome anytime.”

We waved goodbye and headed to join Silas and Holland in the van. “Burgers here we come.” Silas pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards Harrison’s pub.

***