The detective had driven himself and his new flatmate to a Walmart at the edge of the neighborhood, adjoined by the outskirts of the main tourist city of Seattle, everything dazzling the young woman as she usually frequented the Hyperion Grocery, a local but small store known for selling farmers' produce. With the Candy Killer still at large, Rogers had invited the mischievous informant into his flat out of concern for her safety. What he hadn't seen coming was how they'd end up in a Walmart, much of it to do with Tilly nearly eating out the fridge, not that the detective had much in it to begin with. Rogers realized they were going to have to go to a cheaper grocery store to stock up on food if they were to save money and have supplies to spare.
To Tilly, the Walmart was a giant enclosed flea market with white tiles and neatly sectioned plots of food, clothes, and wares. The last time she had been in one, she was just a child. Rogers was surprised at her excitement until she mentioned that just because she knew it was there, it didn't mean it was feasible to go to. Transportation by foot to carry some groceries, wasting half the day trekking across town is a waste of time, she had said to him sulking. Her face lit up, however, as soon as he mentioned a trip to the superstore since they had nothing to do for the afternoon and fruit for dinner was not a proper meal.
"I've only ever seen these in commercials!" Tilly gasped as she pointed out Squishmallows. Running over to the bin, she hugged the 16 inch round animal themed plushies. "If only I could take all your cuteness with me," she said, knowing fairly well that the twenty dollar price point was a considerable amount to spend on something inedible and it would take up half of her twin sized bed.
Rogers caught up to her, out of breath, half a cart full of items. "You've got to stop running around like that without me," he said panting. As in shape as he was, it didn't compare to the energy Tilly had, even if hers was powered by adrenaline as they dashed around half the store.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly as she put back down the plushies, "Guess I got carried away." She made a promise to herself that she'd be back for the plushies someday with her own money to spend on one of them. Putting one hand on the blue shopping cart handle, Tilly confirmed to him, "I'll make sure to stick nearby for the rest of the trip. What's next on the list?"
"Do you feel like potatoes?" he asked, smiling since he had regained his puppy-like flatmate.
"Oh, do I?! Lead the way," she exclaimed, pointing in a random direction.
He initially followed her mark, zigzagging between aisles until they got to the large rows of glass with black handles, filled with various chilled goods in transparent fridges. Tilly's blue eyes sparkled as she ran a few feet away from the cart toward a door, spotting frozen chicken nuggets, corn dogs, and assorted processed potato items.
"I thought we were going to grab regular po-teh-ters," she said, laughing after she sounded out the syllables in a joking manner, sounding nothing like a country person.
"Well, a few frozen things couldn't hurt. You know, for the days that we're too tired or lazy, we could easily pop them into the toaster oven," he announced. While the detective was a stickler for basic things like fruits and vegetables, he could see them both enjoying something snackable. "I'll be in the next aisle grabbing some oil and flour."
She gave him a thumbs up and left, coming back five minutes later to find her standing in front of fogged out fridges, arms crossed as her face was contorted in focus. Rogers stood patiently waiting as she grabbed a frozen bag out of a fridge, examined it, and then proceeded to stick it back with a shake of her head.
The scene of simplistic puzzlement amused him to the point of laughing, drawing her attention towards him and his squeaky cart as he came to a stop next to her. "Come on, Starfish," he beckoned, "you need to choose something before the next century hits."
Tilly looked away from the frozen goods, asking with even more confusion, "What did you just call me?"
"Have you seen the way you sleep?" he retorted. "You take up the whole bed with your arms and legs flopped out like a starfish."
"Hmm."
She thought back to her waking moments where she was usually melting into the bed, covering the bedsheet surface with her limbs. His nickname seemed so fitting, familiar, like it was meant for her. Tilly couldn't help wanting to find a suitable nickname for him soon. The young woman had seen his bedhead but he was usually the earliest to rise for work and knock on her door to see if she wanted breakfast with him.
"One day I'll catch you in your sleep", she hummed happily, eyes playfully narrowed at him before staring back at the giant glass refrigerators. It didn't take her long before she was distracted again by the multiple choices, frazzled in her indecisiveness. Biting lightly at the dwindling quick of her thumb's nail, Tilly complained, "I can't choose. There are just so many kinds!"
"Don't bite your nails," Rogers reprimanded, crossing his arms, earning an eye roll from her and a jamming of her hands into her jacket pockets. He scratched the back of his ear, releasing the tension in his shoulders, suggesting, "Look, how about letting go of the reins in your mind and following your heart instead? Which one speaks to you?"
The freezing doors were clearing up, bags of red and blue preening their shades. Going through her options, she listed, "French fries, a classic with ketchup and as a side. Curly fries, seasoned and fun to eat. Oooh, smiley faces? I don't think I could eat their happy faces without regret. Tater tots, adorable bite sized hot potatoes." Tilly sighed heavily with relief as she weighed the differences and took notice of what she was pulled towards.
"Tater tots?" Rogers asked as she dropped the frozen food bag into the cart, wondering how she decided the result.
"Yeah, perfection in small round puffs. Crispy on the outside and flaky on the inside like a mini hash brown," Tilly replied, a buck toothed smile beaming on her face. "Anything else on the list?"
He looked at his paper list and crossed off 'frozen goods' with his trusty ballpoint pen. "Just a few cans and we should be good to go," he answered.
Tilly hopped onto the end of the cart, holding onto the metal rim for balance, becoming a tall and blonde obstruction of his view. He exhaled a breath of disbelief as he cracked a grin at the goofy action typically done by children rather than the adults, the latter being the age demographic Tilly fell into. Rogers ignored his logical impulses to tell her to get off so he wouldn't bump into anything or accidently ram her into a shelf.
"Hold on tight!" the detective warned as he gave into his fun side. He pushed the cart with as much force as he could, the cart gaining speed as they passed aisles, Tilly's chuckles and whoops of cheer filling the air.
They slowed down as they turned into the row of canned goods and packaged snacks. She got down from the cart, wiping her hands together to get her blood flowing and the imprinted metal cart lines off her. Rogers looked at his options before selecting a few green thin cans of sardines in tomato sauce, placing them into their mainly full cart with a satisfied look. Looking at Tilly, it was crystal clear that she didn't feel the same way.
"What? It's easy to heat up, nutritious and delicious," he said, defending the simple provision.
Tilly held her disgusted expression, blinking with disbelief at how someone could willingly choose the canned fish, her nose wrinkling and the corners of her mouth frowning as her cheeks were pulled back in a grimace. "Seems like a last resort meal we'd have to face if we were trapped in a bunker or snowstorm," she replied disapprovingly.
"Agree to disagree." Rogers shrugged, putting his hands back on the cart handle. "Ready to go?"
She nodded her head and they headed to the checkout line. As the queue shortened and they placed items on the conveyor belt, the wandering artist exclaimed, "Aah, I'm so hungry! I can't wait to get home!"
Rogers perked up, thinking that he hadn't enjoyed meals in so long, most of it spent alone. It was their first dinner together since it was the end of the week. Placing the heavy items out from the cart in quick succession, he asked casually, "What do you want to eat tonight?" masking his delight. He didn't want his choices to spoil the event while also subtly wanting her input.
Placing the most fragile of the groceries, the eggs, on the belt, Tilly replied, "I think we should have a combination of stuff. Maybe some tater tots, broccoli, carrots, rice, and even," she paused as her lips pursed tightly together, "sardines."
"You sure?" the detective asked, an eyebrow raised in surprise at her response as he scanned his credit card to pay for their items.
"Well, it can't hurt to eat some veggies and try out some sardines," Tilly mused, giving him a knowing look that she valued his thoughts when it concerned her health. "Granted, I haven't had them in a while and I've heard tastebuds can change. Besides, even if I don't like them, the wee tater tots will save me."
"I bet I can make them taste good," he claimed with an air of confidence after he grabbed the receipt and thanked the cashier, Tilly loading their bagged items back into the cart. "Good seasoning and pans can do a lot of justice," Rogers continued, putting a pack of water bottles on the small ledge under the cart.
"I hope so or you're going to have a lot of leftovers," she announced cheekily as they both pushed the cart out of the Walmart and towards the car in the parking lot.