Eat pray love

It's a strange feeling. The roses seem redder, the sky looks bluer and the sun just seems to be singing its own tune up there. It had been a month since I had met him, and a week since he had been teasing me about how I intended to keep my culinary skills, or the sheer lack of them, a secret until it was too late. To clear all doubts, I had invited him to a home cooked meal that night and now found myself at the downtown grocery store, loading my shopping cart with pasta and olives and artichokes and steak and chops and jalapenoes and cooking chocolate.

Delores was at the cash counter, billing and packing with her usual sunny smile. The hard years showed in the lines on her face, but her eyes had a warmth that declared she was the best agony aunt in a thousand miles. We hardly talked except for the usual pleasantaries, but we had developed a liking for each other over the years.

'It's that look in your eyes, honey, that explains what's in the shopping cart,' she said. I tried not to look embarassed, hard as it was. I'm just dating this guy you see, there's nothing more to it.

" I've been there and done that darling," she said, "and I can tell it when I see it. It's no bed of roses, mind you. I've been running this grocery store ever since my husband left me to raise my son alone and it wasn't always easy. I work days and nights to put my boy through college, and then he does five years in prison for drugs and attempting to murder this girl he was dating. It's six weeks since he's back home now, but I keep worrying honey. It's no bed of roses I tell ya that."

I gathered up my things and made my way back to the car, thinking more about whether I had blushed and how many people had caught it, than about Delores's story. I admired her gut though. Life had been hard on her but she had a zest for it still, it seemed. I thought about her while I rolled out the pasta and baked the brownies, and thought that there but for the grace of God were I.

Dinner was ready by 6:30, and so was I. The table was set, the glasses were filled. The roses did look redder while I waited for the doorbell to ring. It was seven, and then seven thirty. Still no sign of him. Had he stood me up? That couldn't be. No, he wouldn't do that. His phone was not reachable. Maybe he had something important. Maybe he had to stay back at work. Maybe it was some minor emergency that he had to attend to first. Maybe he just got caught in the traffic. Maybe his car broke down and he had forgotten to charge his phone. Maybe -oh yeah, right, surely- he was out with that gorgeous blonde I'm sure he was staring at at the restaurant that day. Oh please! He wouldn't do that!
It was nearly eight by the time the doorbell rang. He was there, a bunch of carnations in hand, his hair a little tousled, which made him look all the more adorable.
'I'm sorry I'm late,' he said. 'Mum had an emergency.'
'Oh dear, is she okay?' I asked as I helped him hang up his jacket.
'Ah, she just had a rough day at work. A lot of business today and she coudn't account for nearly three grand. We sat over it and figured it out and just as that got sorted the cooling system broke down. Had to help her fix it before I drove her home. And then I picked up these carnations for you. I remember you said you like them.'
'Thank you,' I said in a gentler tone as I fetched a vase for the flowers. 'What does your Mum do, by the way?'
'Why, Mum?' he replied. 'Well, she's been running the downtown grocery store for as long as I can remember.'