Helena didn't think I was looking, but I totally saw it all.

It was a few days before the start of Memorial Day Weekend when we decided to have a cook out. Helena had never taken part in one and Pete was eager to chow down on as many burgers and hot dogs that could possibly fit into his stomach over the three-day weekend. I offered up our services to pick up the groceries at the store if Pete would be in charge of grilling everything.

Actually, I had the suspicion that this would actually turn into a pseudo-wedding party or somesuch as we didn't have anyone from the Warehouse with us when we got married, nor did we really tell them that we actually did get married. Seems as good a time as any to tell everyone. Well, it's not as if we really knew we were going to get married at that point, but still. Claudia can't resist a party, nor can Pete. Especially one centered around delicious foods.

We were walking past the pet food and cleaning supplies aisles and both were completely vacant of customers. I held the shopping list, Helena pushed the cart ahead of me. She always gets bored at the grocery store, wondering why anyone would need a gallon of mayonnaise or if dimethylpolysiloxane is truly a food ingredient.

"I've never participated in a cookout, Myka." Helena looked over at me, learning her arms against the cart. My eyes darted from place to place, eager to quickly find what we needed so we could head home. Helena had a pile of experiments at home to work on with Claudia and could have honestly cared less about being at the store with me. She came along because I needed some help with the cart and picking out foods others actually enjoying eating.

"It'll be fun." I added. "Pete does grill a good burger." Burgers are definitely one of Helena's 21st-century weaknesses.

I stopped at the end of an aisle to select some beers in for Steve and me, quickly losing sight of Helena with the cart. Thinking nothing of it (and figuring she just went down another aisle to get something), I shrug it aside and pick out some beer.

From somewhere close to me, I heard the unmistakable click of Helena's boot heels on the linoleum and the sound of the cart rushing in the opposite direction away from me.

Oh no.

I run towards the aisle next to me to catch the last second of Helena speeding down the aisle, riding the shopping cart.

Sometimes, I forget that she missed out on things like this.