The kid had the look of a single parent.
She knew the signs, had seen them staring back at her in the mirror for the better part of twenty years. He was maybe twenty himself, but his height, the breadth of his shoulders, and the dark blonde stubble shadowing his face added years that he seemed to carry capably, if not comfortably. Dark shadows smudged below arresting, catlike green and gold eyes, and a line of tension creased between his eyebrows. The freckles dusting his nose contradicted the almost grim set to a finely carved mouth. Large hands pushed the loaf of bread and jar of crunchy peanut butter towards her so that she could scan them. In faded, washed-too-many-times jeans and a t-shirt, he cut quite a figure, and her oldest girls would have giggled too loudly and made moon eyes over him, had they been there.
But, thank the sweet Lord, they weren't, and she simply gave him an understanding smile as he pulled a few crumpled bills out of his pocket.
She'd nearly finished bagging the scant purchases when what seemed to be a small tornado nearly bowled the kid over. It was not a whirlwind, but an even younger boy, this one fifteen or so. The young man reached out, clasping a steadying—and calming—hand to the boy's elbow. The boy was a few inches shorter than what she assumed to be his brother. He was all gangly arms and legs and clearly hadn't grown accustomed to his size yet. The halo of half-curly brown hair that flopped over his forehead gave him the look of a crazed, mischievous angel—a wicked one, she corrected, at the sight of the pair of dimples that flashed at her.
The boys weren't discernably siblings upon first glance, but it was easy enough to see if you looked close. Their eyes held the same hazel hue, their chins held the same tilt, each had a small cowlick in the same spot.
In his hands, the boy held a jar of grape jelly.
"Dean." Just the one word.
He held it out to the young man in silent offering, eyes sad big and sad and pleading. The young man sighed, but accepted the jelly, in turn handing it to her. He smiled and rolled his eyes as if to say kids, what are you gonna do? The boy's own smile was nearly blinding in its brilliance.
The boys paid, thanked her with identical grammatical inflections, and walked side by side to the exit. The younger said something to the elder and she heard the elder's laughter for the first time. It was clear, unfettered, and some of those years seemed to vanish from the set of his shoulders. She saw a single dimple wink in the cheek he turned towards his brother. With the hand not holding the meager groceries, he managed to tousle the boy's hair and shove him at the same time. She shook her head at the way boys could use violence as affection. That hand then settled on the boy's shoulder, tugging him closer, away from a potted plant he'd been about to trip over.
She could see half of each their faces they had turned towards each other, and they looked so similar in that moment she didn't know how she could have missed the resemblance. For a moment they seemed to be a single person, reflected in a mirror image.
They left the store like that, close together.