Chapter 01: Apples and strange encounters

“Apples?” Anne wondered aloud, trying to push her memory. Patience had never been one of her virtues and the supermarket was packed. She hated going to full of people places and malls and supermarkets were at the top of the list. Did she have apples at home, she tried to remember. She could see the empty shelves in her memory of the fridge, but she hadn’t checked the drawers. “Crap. If I buy too many apples, they’ll rot and then I’ll have to throw them away…”

Why were people everywhere she looked? Children were running around slamming things down, their mothers yelling for them to stop while pushing two full carts and trying to find the ringing cell phones in their purses.

Funny how no matter which country you’re in, there’ll always be children driving their moms insane. Anne had driven her own plenty. And the thought of her mother had her stopping in mid-air as she reached for the apples pile. She hadn’t seen her mother in a month, since she had moved to New York to study.

Going away had been something she had yearned for since her childhood. Back then, going on expeditions and sailing the seven seas had been the dream. But as realities merged, she had nursed the dream of living in other countries, meeting as much people as she could. The pang in her heart with the thought of her mother was something that surprised her quite a bit.

Anne shook off the feeling and realized she had been staring at the apple her hand had grabbed whilst lost in thoughts. Anne had a thing for apples, considering them the best of fruits. They looked good, were just enough juicy and sweet, they were cheap and their seeds didn’t get in the way. Kiwis for instance, were ugly; they had hair for goodness’ sake. When you saw a kiwi you didn’t feel your mouth watering, and you certainly didn’t wish for a bite. And, to be honest, the kiwi juice made a strange tickle in her throat, which brought back the fact that they had a fuzzy skin. Pineapples, melons, watermelons and papayas weren’t practical at all. Her favorite fruit was the cherry, though. They were pretty, juicy, sweet and just small enough to eat a dozen at a time. But back home they were very expensive fruit. Understandable. Cherries were for cold environments and Brazil wasn’t the right place for them, Anne concluded.

But why was she wondering about cherries again? She couldn’t remember. She checked the contents of her cart and tried desperately to remember what she had left her home to buy; cleaning stuff, milk, a broom, apples, rice, ham, cheese, a frozen lasagna and potatoes were neatly displayed. She pushed her memory one last time and when nothing came to mind, she got behind the big man in the line of the smaller line.

It was only after another two carts were behind her that she remembered she needed pads. She debated for a while between leaving the market and buying them later at a drugstore and leaving the cart in the line for a few minutes as she raced back to get a few packages.

Anne had no idea how Americans dealt with these small daily things. Years of TV shows and movies hadn’t prepared her at all for living among them. Just the week before when she had been at the mall to buy some warmer clothes, the sales clerk had laughed in her face when she had asked what the bra size 40d meant. Americans, the clerk had explained with disdain, measured the lengths to determinate which size of bra was the right one. Used to choosing from small, medium and large, Anne hadn’t understood what letters and numbers had meant. And, apparently, the size of the bra she had been holding was terribly wrong for her. Big breasts weren’t a Japanese trait, and hers certainly wouldn’t fit the ones she was holding.

A little in love with the idea of finding a perfectly fitted bra, Anne had picked different sizes to try on. Now lines, Anne knew, were serious stuff. People fought and argued over lines; in traffic, in malls, offices, markets. People lived with the fear of passing as fools. It was a worldly thing. But as for supermarket lines, she wasn’t sure about the MO. Anne was used to the Brazilian way, “o jeitinho”. Did that translate? Brazilian’s little way? Whatever. At home, she’d warn the person behind that she’d be right back. But here, almost everything worked a little differently.

Thinking of having to face another line in another store, Anne caught the woman wearing bright purple spandex attention and clearly said she’d be right back. The woman didn’t answer and just sighed staring in another direction. Hospitality, my ass, Anne thought as she ran past the aisles looking for the hygiene section.

She had just passed by the canned goods when a cart came out from behind an enormous pile of tomato sauce cans and ran into her. Or she ran into it. Anne was thrown back to the floor and fell on her butt, while the man’s cart tumbled to the side, spreading his groceries everywhere. Everywhere. Apples spread to the floor in every direction, a flour package ripped open and painted everything white; cans were rolling making people trip and a little girl was watching the flour over her shoes with amazement.

Her mouth was hanging open, not believing what she was looking at.

She must’ve had a very shocked expression because the man that had been pushing the torn cart came running to her side to offer help, struggling between laugh and worry.

“Are you okay?” He had asked. Anne slowly looked up and the most beautiful green eyes shone with amusement.

“I’m okay, I think. Everything’s white.”

“Including you.”

“Oh God, including me! Your things. I’m so sorry. I was running and didn’t see you.”

“Can you stand? Did you get hurt?” He held out his hand and helped her up.

“I’m okay.” She let go of his hand and brushed her pants off still mesmerized. There was flour every-damn-where.

At the sound of running feet and shouts, Anne turned and saw the supermarket attendants running towards the mess.

“I think we’re getting scolded.” The man commented. He crossed his arms over his navy blue jacket and spread his legs. It made Anne think of a man getting ready to fight. She hoped it wasn’t with her. “These jackasses should be worried about cleaning up this mess, and not to put blame on you.”

“So you do blame me.”

“Don’t you?” He asked without sparing her a glance. But she caught the smirk and was grateful he had taken a humored reaction. She’d always hated dealing with stress and conflict. Terrible for a Law graduate, but that had always been the problem. “Maybe” Anne answered.

“Miss? What happened here?” There were three men; the one in the middle was balding and had a radio on his hand. He looked at her through very thick lenses with a serious face.

“I… was running to get this thing and I was in a hurry… I didn’t see him coming.” Anne said looking at Green Eyes for confirmation. He nodded.

“I see. You shouldn’t be running inside the supermarket.” Like they had been? “You understand that you’ll have to pay for whatever was damaged and broken?”

“I do”, Anne answered a little shaken. Out of what was thrown everywhere she couldn’t really say how much it would cost. Suddenly she wasn’t feeling well at all.

“It was my fault too.” The man said still not looking at her. “I wasn’t looking while pushing my cart. Got distracted for a second.”

Anne was counting in her head how much money she still had left in her wallet. Her credit card was almost maxxed out. She reached down to take it from her purse and just caught air. Looking down, she remembered she had put her purse inside the cart when she had reached the line.

“It’s up to you how you decide to pay for everything. That boy over there will gather everything and calculate. Please be more careful next time. Have a nice day.”

“Yeah, thank you” Green eyes said. “For nothing. Where have you ever seen this? It was clearly an accident. And he didn’t even ask if you were okay. What?” He added when he noticed her panic.

“My purse.” she said. “I left it on my cart. The cart that is back on the line all by its self. Look,” she said trying for some understanding “I’m gonna go get it and I’ll be right back to deal with this. It’ll be just a second.” Beautiful green eyes indeed; he was over six feet tall, she couldn’t say how much more. His skin was a little tanned and his light brown hair was styled in a short cut that made her think of Beckham’s hair. Metrosexuals, you had to love them.

“It’s okay. I’ll get this. Just be more careful.”

“Oh, of course not. I’ll be right back” And there she was running again. She glanced behind to see him one more time and stopped in her tracks just in time before she ran into another cart. This man wouldn’t have been so nice if the same had happened, she noticed. He was already cursing her while he changed directions. She looked back again, and Green eyes had the disbelief stamped over his face. She gave him a weak smile over her shoulder and deserted the main aisle. 

The woman had not only pushed her cart aside but there was no cart to be seen.

“Great. Just great.” Anne felt sick. Her money, her cell phone, a beloved Galaxy Note, her… passport… Her stomach sank. Her passport. Stories from movies about lost passports washed over her with cold sweat. How could she have had been that stupid? Her classes would begin in one week and she had no passport. Could things get any worse?

*

Noah walked from the billing office wishing he could just go home instead of having to pick all of his groceries again. The clerk had been annoyingly slow registering and asking about each item on the list. He had lost count of how many times he’d had to confirm that they had been damaged in an accident.

Offering to pay for them may have seemed stupid since she had been the one that turned his cart, but he had seen the desperation on her face; desperate with the idea of not having money enough. He really hadn’t seen where the girl had come from; as he had reached for his phone on his back pocket and kept pushing the cart she came from behind the pile and ran into it. She must’ve gotten hurt, he wondered as he pushed his new empty cart; she had been knocked really hard to the floor.

There was something Asian about her, but he couldn’t tell which country she could be from; her eyes were brown and curved, her short black hair framed her face in soft waves and her skin was tanned, but her English sounded American enough. The snug black leggings had shown strong legs, but the deep purple sweater had hidden most of her body. He could see she had broad shoulders for a girl, but just enough to make him think of a swimmer’s body.

Shaking his head, Noah thought of Brie’s scold if he came home without the things she’d asked him to buy. Since he had to stay and shop, he’d get everything he needed.

*

Anne’s new cart had more groceries than the first one. Holding her purse close, the strap across her body, Anne pushed the cart through the aisles. She’d been so relieved to find her purse at the lost and found that had decided to buy whatever she wanted. With a bottle of Wyborowa Vodka in hand, Anne picked two Heineken beer bottles. Alcohol was a must for celebrations, and in her opinion, when it kept you from getting into serious trouble, it deserved good food and good drinks.

She settled the bottles inside her cart and checked the contents to see if anything was missing. “Milk, cookies, lasagnas, hamburgers, coffee, rice," she'd pick up a few tomatoes and onions as she walked to the vegetables and fruits sections. "Yogurt… yogurt… Apples!” Anne realized. 

The thought of apples going in different directions around the floor that was covered with flour crossed her mind. Green eyes had left by the time she had come back with her purse. He really had the most amazing green eyes, Anne thought as she saw the apples piles. She was looking for the Fuji apples when her cart hit another one.

“Oh what is wrong with me? I’m so… Oh.” Anne looked up and there were those green eyes again.

“Are you stalking me?” He asked with a scowl.

“I swear I’m not. Sorry, I was looking for apples.”

“Because they’re so hard to find?” Green eyes asked gesturing the many piles of different apples in the fruit section where they stood.

Anne stood looking at him and thought ‘There you are. I’ve been looking for you. Like all my life.’ Laughing at herself, her lame self, she shook her head and caught him staring at her with suspicion. “Are you there?” He asked. “I get it… you’re crazy. It’s okay. Could you… go stand over there?”

“Oh sorry, I’m so scatterbrained tonight. No, I’m not stalking you and I’m not crazy, just…” and thought laughing at nothing out of the blue. Okay, she was crazy. Whatever. “So I came back looking for you but you weren’t there anymore.”

“I told you it was okay. I already took care of it. All I need now are my apples and to get home safely tonight. Please let me.” When Anne only stared, he added “I have a thing for apples.”

Anne smiled and wondered, okay, was it just her or the universe was sending a message? Hello fate, lovely to see you. “I was getting some myself” Anne replied. Focus, she thought, her heart was beating faster with the new possibility. Anne had a thing for new possibilities; their variations and consequences, different fates and new adventures, made her daydream about possible futures and how her life could be about to change forever. Definitely crazy, she decided.

“So, knocking any carts around lately?” Green eyes asked conversationally, as he selected apples from the Fuji pile.

“Very funny. Are you always this smart assed?”

“So my mom always wondered. Found your purse, then?”

“I did. Couldn’t believe it. I went to the L anf F and there it was, not missing a single content.”

“What made you run?”

“Hmm,” Anne was holding an apple close to check its skin. “pads.”

“Pads? Like cushions?”

“Why would I run for cushions?”

“Why would you run fast enough to tumble a cart inside a supermarket this full?”

“I… oh, forget it. No, not like cushions. Like… pads. I don’t know the word.”

“You’re not American?”

“Nope. Could I pass for one?”

“Fooled me.” He laughed. “I’m kidding, don’t look so annoyed. Where are you from?”

“Sorry? Ah, Brazil.”

“Nice. You don’t look Brazilian.”

“What do Brazilians look like?”

“You seem Asiatic. But your skin is too tanned for an Asian from Asia.”

“I’m a half-Asian from Brazil. Don’t you people have Asian’ descendants here?” Anne asked with sarcasm.

“Love that about Brazil. No genotype.” Green eyes answered ignoring her provocation.

“You’re very weird, did you know that?”

“I do.” He smiled. “So, what kind of pads? Mouse pads? Ipads?”

“Women's pads.”

“Women's pads…? Oh, like flat tampons?”

“Yes! Like flat tampons.”

“Serious stuff.”

“And you would know.”

“Actually I would. Or my girlfriend would.” Damn it, it wasn’t the universe after all, Anne thought, just her twin old friends Irony and Sarcasm. A little disappointed, Anne closed her bag with the four apples and settled it inside her cart. He put one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven apples in his bag.

“Are those all for you? Only for you?”

“Yeah. I have a thing for them.”

“You really do.”

“I really do. I’d better get going.” He said seconds before his cell began to ring. “Hi, baby. Yeah, I was just finishing. Am about to leave. You need anything?” He looked at Anne and smiled. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Bye.” He put his cell back in his pocket. “Guess what?”

“What?” Are you going to dump her and run away with me to the Caribbean, Anne wished without changing her expression.

“My girl needs tampons.” What kind of man says ‘my girl needs tampons’ with that sweet face to a stranger with no mind to it? Anne’s kind of guy. “So, see you. Or… until the next time you run into me. Please be careful while driving. Oh, better idea, wait for me to go and then you start your car, okay?” And there was that smile again.

“Okay” Anne had to laugh.

“Don’t forget your apples.” He added with a wink and left.

*

Anne watched Green eyes leave and only after he disappeared behind a pile of boxes, was that she realized she hadn’t picked the pads the second time. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d definitely need a neural appointment. Okay, maybe if she took the other way around, she could get there first and be gone before he found the aisle. If she ran into him again he’d be right about the stalking. 

She was getting her packages when his voice sounded behind her with sheer disbelief “You forgot them again?”

“I was… Oh, shut up.” He laughed. Green eyes walked a few feet away scanning the shelf. When he found what he wanted, picked a couple of packages a settled them inside his cart.

“Your girl is a very lucky girl.”

“Are you hitting on me?”

“Of course not. You can buy tampons without trouble. That’s impressive.”

“Used to it. We’ve been together for a while.”

“That’s nice” If Anne cried would that make her too desperately crazy and… sad? Probably.

“I’d better go. You take care.”

“You too.”

“Remember the car please” Another smile. “No rushing.”

“Got it.” And he left.

Anne was pushing her cart in the opposite direction when she saw this woman looking at the direction he went. They looked at each other and smiled with mutual understanding; it was a really nice ass. Sorry pal, Anne thought as she finally went to stand in line, he’s taken.

And went their own directions.

*