Three and a Half Months Earlier

I walked into the unfamiliar grocery store and grabbed a basket before navigating my way to the produce department. The store was vibrant and had a lot of fresh items that made me envious. My local store was never this colourful. After winding my way through the stalls and filling a few flimsy plastic bags with fruits and vegetables, I headed towards the aisles and turned into the first one. It was empty except for a man about half way down, holding a red can that I assumed was tomatoes. I continued on, knowing that I probably wouldn't need anything from that particular aisle. As I got closer to the man, he turned his head and looked at me in acknowledgment and at once I felt as though everything around me slowed down. He was older than me, by quite a few years, but I was instantly struck by something about him. His eyes were deep brown and so expressive and I felt myself unable to look away.

I smiled at him without thinking and continued on, wondering if he had turned around to watch me leave. I felt flushed and out of breath and faught with the urge to turn around and walk back his way. I could still feel the dizzying feeling of my heart pounding and wondered why I was reacting so strongly after only making eye contact with a complete stranger. I continued on and grabbed a few items from the next aisle that my mother had requested, all the while thinking about the brown eyes that had caught me so off guard.


"Did you see him again?" my mother asked.

I slowly finished my sip of coffee then held the warm cup in my hands. I nodded. "I saw him in a few more aisles, but," my voice trailed off, remembering how I had wanted to say something, anything to him but couldn't work up the nerve. I had been so self conscious about my red, puffy eyes and patchy makeup and knew that anything I said would come out as a rambling mess.

My mother nodded and gave me a small, knowing smile. After all, she knew how hard it was for me to leave my comfort zone.

I cleared my throat and pressed on. "When I was waiting in line at the checkout I saw him a few registers over. He," I paused for a second, remembering how I felt in that moment. "He was looking back at me and it, it sounds weird, but it felt like neither of us could look away, even though I tried."

"Then what happened?" she asked. It had been a very long and emotional day and I knew that listening to me was a very welcomed distraction.

"Nothing," I said quietly. "He finished in line first and then left the store." I fiddled with my cup on the table and waited for her to respond. When she didn't, I looked up to find her looking at me with her chin in her hand.

"What did it feel like?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I tried to clarify. Although she was not smiling, I could tell that she was happy. It was in her eyes.

"When you saw him, what did it feel like?" she explained.

I took a deep breath, trying to find a way to describe the odd and overwhelming sensation that I felt when I looked into his eyes. "Like," I began, slowly shaking my head, still trying to find the words. "Like something snapped deep inside of my chest." I knew it didn't make any sense and wasn't explaining myself well enough to capture the sensation. I tried again. "It was so exciting for a brief second and then a sense of calm washed over me, like," I closed my eyes for a few seconds. "It was like walking into your home after being away on a long trip." I looked over at my mother and saw a smile slowly grow as she took in what I was saying.

"Hmmm," she said subtly.

"What?" I asked.

"That sounds nice," she answered calmly.

I nodded, trying to recapture that feeling but only finding its memory. "Have you ever felt anything like that? Like had an extreme connection with a complete stranger?" I was curious to know if what I was feeling was crazy.

"Once," she answered fondly.

"Dad?" I asked, remembering the sweet story I had heard many times of how my parents met at a carnival.

"Nope," she answered casually before taking a sip of her coffee.

"What? What do you mean? Who then?" I quickly asked, leaning forward in my chair.

She smiled at my reaction and took a few seconds before answering, clearly reminiscing about a fond memory from her past. "When I was 19, I was taking a bus to the library. It was an average Saturday afternoon, nothing special about it," she began. "Anyways, a boy walked on the bus and sat in front of me, facing me, but a few seats over. He had these striking blue eyes and dark wavy hair. He was so handsome," she inhaled a slow deep breath, "and we just kept staring at each other. So I know exactly what you mean by not being able to break eye contact with someone."

"So what happened?" I asked, intrigued and finding it fun to see my mother blush.

"When my stop came, which I almost missed because I was so distracted, he happened to get off at the same stop."

"And?" I asked, drawing out the word since my mother didn't continue.

She smiled. "He came up and talked to me as I made my way to the library. Oh he was even more handsome up close," she said with a smile. "But," she trailed off.

"But?" I questioned, anxious to find out more.

"He was an ass," she answered with a bit of a chuckle, and obviously found my wide eyed response to be amusing. "He was rude and way too cocky and the spell quickly wore off, but I'm glad to have experienced that because," she paused for a second before continuing. "That feeling? That overwhelming spark? It's rare, and it's special."

"Yeah," I answered, knowing that what she said was true.

"Look, you're here for a few more days, right? Why don't you go pick up a few things for us tomorrow? And maybe the day after that as well?" she suggested with a smile, clearly hoping that I would run into him again.

"Maybe," I answered playfully.

"Helen?" A tired voice called out from the bedroom.

I watched as the smile quickly faded from my mothers face and a furrowed brow brought us back to reality. I stood up and squeezed her hands. "I'll go," I said, and went to see how my father was feeling.


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