A/N: Ok, so far, this story is going pretty well. Hopefully that keeps up, because 'forgetpoundgivemekoening' and I have a track record for starting stories and then...not...finishing them...:3 teehee.
This isn't so bad, I have to admit once again, as I drive through town to get to my first stop. It's a warm and sunny day, so I have all the windows open. The breeze tickles my face and rustles the grocery bags in the back. I'm familiar with the address, having snuck out there once after my father was called in for a robbery.
It's the house of an older couple, well, an older woman. Her husband died last year, after 75 years of being married. After he passed, she never really left her house, and has everything delivered to her. I'm not surprised this is one of my stops. I decided to stay and chat for a few minutes, just to give her some company, considering not even her children visit her much anymore. Only once or twice, to make sure she's ok.
I arrive at the house, jumping out, grabbing two of the bags, before hustling up the steps. It isn't until I get to the door, that I realize I have no way to knock considering both of my hands are full. I think for a minute, before stepping back and giving the door a good kick. It gets immediate results, the door is opened in seconds by a disgruntled nurse. She shoots me a murderous look, before noticing the groceries and nodding at me to come in. She points me in the direction of the kitchen, I set the bags on the table before heading out to grab the rest. She doesn't bother to help opting instead to watch me, and I feel like sticking my tongue out, but even I'm not that childish. I head in, dropping them beside the others before she addresses me.
"How much?" She has a thick accent that sounds Russian. I wonder vaguely how she ended up here.
"Pardon?"
"How much for groceries?" She huffs.
"Oh, uh," I pat around in my pockets before extracting the receipt and reciting the price. She trundles over to a pocketbook, grumbling about prices, before pulling out a few bills and some coins. She shoves them at me, and the look on her face clearly reads get out. I nod before scurrying out the door, hearing it slam behind. No wonder no one visits her. I throw out all thoughts of ever staying with her, at least for now, before hopping back in my jeep and heading for the grocery store.
Isaac is as good as his word. When I get back, he has everything bagged and grouped, with the receipts tucked inside. I grin, slapping him on he back.
"Dude, sweet! Thanks!"
He grins shyly back, shrugging.
"It was nothing. It's not like I had anything else to do. Need some help loading it?" He follows me as I head to the closest group of bags.
"Sure!" I chirp, grabbing a handful of bags and heading back out. He grabbed the rest and followed. We talk aimlessly about the weather as we load them in my car. I pull the address from the bag, scanning it, before saluting to Isaac and pulling away.
I whistle as I twist and turn to my next stop, pulling up to what appears to be an empty house. There's no car in the driveway, the yard is a mess, and the windows are all dark. I walk to the door, pretty sure I've got the wrong address. There's a piece of paper taped to it, with some words written hastily in black marker.
ALL DELIVERIES TO BE LEFT ON PORCH. ONCE DELIVERIES HAVE BEEN PLACED, RING BELL.
I head back to my jeep, a little sketched out, but willing to try. Plus, my curiosity is dying to know what's going on. So, like a good delivery boy, I load the bags on the porch. I check the receipt, and see PAID written on it in red pen. Shrugging, I continue loading the bags. Once the last one is placed, I press the bell, once, and turn to head back to my jeep. I make it all the way without hearing the door open, so I'm doubtful, but when I turn around the bags are gone.
"Fuck."
And with that, I leave.
This is going to be a long day.
I head back to the store to see Isaac reading once again.
"Whatcha reading?" I crane my neck to try and sneak a peek at the title.
"Oh, um" He holds it up.
"The Great Gatsby, nice. Is it any good?"
I'm leaning over the counter, and I'm close enough to notice the blush tinting his cheeks.
"I'm not that far in" He shrugs, "But yeah, it's pretty good so far."
"I had to read it for a project. Gatsby's a creep."
I poke my tongue out at him, he gives me an offended look.
"I like Gatsby."
Laughing, I go to grab the next delivery.
"Hey, Isaac, have you heard about the Hale house being rebuilt?"
"Yeah, I think I heard something about that. Two woman came in talking about it, said they don't know who's rebuilding it, it's been kept quite. They thought it was Derek Hale though, you know, the son?"
It isn't a confirmation, but I add that to what else we know about the house. It's not a lot, so far we only really know it's being rebuilt, but oh well. It's a start.
"You think it's him?" I continue to make polite conversation, if only to procrastinate for a bit longer.
"Not sure. Maybe. I just don't see why he would come back now..."
"Memories?" I guess.
He just shrugs in reply.
"So, how many of these do I have to get done today?"
"I really don't think it matters, the boss is just glad to have someone to do it."
"Yes! This is definitely my kind of job!" I crow, grabbing some bags. Isaac leaps up to help me, tossing his book on the counter. I chuckle at his eagerness, he really is a nice person. If not a little shy.
I finish all the deliveries by eight, and that's with pauses in between in which I talk to Isaac, who's slowly becoming more fun then Scott. He tells me about this guy who lives near him, Jackson, and I can tell his feelings for the guy aren't entirely platonic. I know who he's talking about, I also know the guy is a dick, but Isaac doesn't seem to know that, so I refrain from telling him. He shies away from talking about his home life, but even without out that, by the end of the day, I feel like I know him pretty well.
Tomorrow might not be so bad, I think to myself, but I'm not going to tell my dad that. I'm not feeling the whole I told you so speech. Not tonight at least.
