Frozen Food Aisle
She spied her ex nearby in the frozen food section — probably selecting pizza. “Hi Jeff.”
“Meagan.” He grabbed three flat boxes and placed them in his cart. “You look good.”
“Have you been out of town? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yea, I’ve been in Brazil for the past year.”
“Sounds like you got that job you were hoping for.”
“Actually, I’m with a different company. Or, ‘was’ with a different company. I’m back in town because that project was completed.” He eyed her head to toe.
She knew that look.
“Actually, I’m only in LA for a month and then I’m starting a project in Dubai for at least six months.” He paused. “So, how’s Dimitri?”
Meagan glanced away. “Things didn’t work out.”
So much was conveyed.
Jeff offered an olive branch, “Wanna grab some lunch, sometime?”
She wasn’t ready. “You said some mean things.”
“You did some mean things.”
The frozen food aisle instantly became colder.
Jeff continued. “Look, you knew before we got married that I traveled. You’re the one that broke the vows.”
“I know you did, too!” Meagan’s temper was percolating. “There was that lipstick I found in your pocket when doing laundry.”
“I told you, that was for you.”
“You never bought me cosmetics.”
Jeff sighed. “The lipstick was new. Never used. And I showed you the credit card purchase record.”
“The credit card invoice only showed the price and the store. It didn’t say what was purchased.”
Jeff was quiet and then started chuckling. “Haven’t we been down this road before?” He turned to survey the area before slowly walking to her. From several inches away, he whispered, “Look, if it makes any difference, I did cheat, too. But the lipstick was, indeed, for you.”
It was a coincidence that the lights in the aisle flickered at the same instance as the palpable release of long-locked tension in front of the frozen vegetables. It was only a few words. But so much changed.
Lunch was scheduled.
by George Alger
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