It hadn't been until their early 50's when their lives crossed paths at the local markets. Maggie had seen the "new man" several times and assumed he had just moved into the neighborhood. They were always pleasant when they happened to reach for the same tomato, or stood at the basket to shuck corn together, but a quick smile and a hasty "hello" was all that was shared.
That day was different. When she reached out to check the ripeness of the cantaloupe, he noticed the faint bruising in the distinct shape of a hand across her wrist. Something protective stirred up in him. He had no idea where it sprang from, he hardly knew her more than market greetings. But somehow, he felt as if they had known each other from another life, and that he was supposed to have seen this, this day.
She looked up to give him the normal smile, and noticed his eyes were trained on her bruises. Adjusting her cardigan quickly, she flushed pink and made a retreat to a new aisle.
She wandered around aimlessly, surprised at how ashamed that interaction had left her. Why should she care what some stranger thought? She didn't know, but her eyes began filling with tears as she grabbed pasta, sauce, and headed for the checkout.
When the bouncy little girl behind the counter called out the cost, Maggie began shuffling through her purse to grab the amount and race out of the market.
"Add this to that order, and put the whole thing on my bill, please."
He rolled a ripe cantaloupe, so fresh the scent permeated the air, onto the conveyor. He didn't look at Maggie, just kept his eyes focused on Charlie the chipper checkout.
"Alright" beep beep boop "will that be cash, Sir?"
Maggie balked at this entire scene unfolding without being consulted or considered. "Excuse me, I can pay for my own bill. Thank you."
Charlie looked back and forth, suddenly sullen. She clearly was not trained in the art of negotiations, and she feared a stand-off of wills at her station.
"I would like to pay...." he peered at her name tag, "Charlie."
Charlie bit her lip, sensing the tension rise. Looking up with trepidation, she waited.
Maggie turned and faced the man fully. "That's not necessary, I-"
"It is," he interrupted. He saw the flash of fiery stubbornness ignite in her eyes and could think of only one word that might diffuse it. "Please."
Instantly, she softened. Her shoulders sagged forward a bit and she sighed deeply. "Alright."
Something about her posture made him want to scoop her into his arms and protect her from the world. It broke his heart that the feisty spirit he had just witnessed so quickly had melted into submission. He imagined that the hand that had left the bruises on her wrist was responsible for a lot more damage to her soul. He knew then and there, she needed to be closer, safer, happier. And he wanted it to be with him.
Once again, Charlie broke through the hush of the moment, oblivious to what was transpiring around her. "Need help out with that, Ma'am?"
Before Maggie could respond, he was picking up the bags. "I've got it, Charlie! Thanks and have a great day."
Like an automaton activated by happy words, Charlie's face brightened with her "job well done" attitude as she turned to the next in line. "Morning, how's your day?" she quipped as the beeps and boops of the scanner resumed. The new acquaintances walked out together in silence.
Leaving behind the noise of the market, he spoke again. "Should I put this in your trunk? or basket on a bike?"
"No, I usually walk to the market. I can carry them from here, thanks."
He sighed with relief. Seems fate had smiled on him; he also had walked. It was a beautiful day and that would give him more time to connect with his new friend. "As did I! Happy to carry them home for you, if it's not too forward of me?"
She stopped and eyed him. "Who are you?"
He poked his hand forward, looped through the straps of the bag. "Kenneth, purveyor of melons and shucker of corn."
The ridiculous statement caught her off guard and sent her laughing before she could catch herself.
He hardly believed in love at first sight, but if there was such a thing as love at first sound, this was it. Her laugh was unusual. It wasn't the typical bright sound that came from the tittering throats of the light-hearted. It wasn't the evil maniacal sound that emanated from the dark side. But there was definitely a mixture of the two. It was an intriguing mix that promised complexity and depth - and it made him wonder what else was unique about this woman. If she had somehow spun a web to catch him, he was rolling around in her silk, happy to be her prey.
He might have been 50-turning-51 in 3 weeks, but he felt 16 again. It was a welcome rush, and he determined right there to rewind time for her as well.
