13. TRIP

"Checkmate." Edythe smiled proudly. We were sitting on some blue cushions on the floor by the window playing some good ol' fashioned Chess. How did we get condemned to such a fate on our honeymoon, you ask? Well, it was raining all week and my wife didn't want me to catch cold again like I did after we trekked home from our little trip to the falls in the rain and mud, though I insisted it was fine. Probably allergies, you know? Of course, there were other things I was expecting to do to pass the time on an occasion like this, but I had officially been cut off for no good reason of my own. So, here we were. We've only completed our 50th game of chess so far, but who's counting, right? Definitely not me. Totally.

"Ready to start again?" my wife asked, resting her elbow on her knee and propping her chin up on her hand. Then her gaze shifted to somewhere over my shoulder and she grinned. "Would you look at that? It's finally clearing up." She gestured towards the window and I turned around to face it on instinct. The sky was still gray, but the rain no longer came down on us in droves of wavy sheets. My face brightened at the prospect of not playing a 51st game of chess.

"That's great." I smiled.

"So, what should we do today then?" she asked, rising to her feet. I put a finger on my chin to think.

"I know!" I piped, snapping my fingers. Edythe looked at me expectantly. "Are there any grocery stores around here?" I blurted out, remembering the fridge was in dire need of restocking. The next thing I know, my wife's throwing her head back just cracking herself up like I'd just told the funniest joke in the world.

"Wow, that's very exciting Beau." She nodded, biting back a smile. "In fact, it's the most exciting thing anyone anywhere can do on a honeymoon. Oh Beau, I didn't know you were this adventurous!" she pretended to be shocked, putting a hand on her chest.

"Hardy-har-har, very funny." I grumbled. She laughed at me again, that bright, ringing sound as clear as a bell. I watched as she sauntered across the kitchen tiles and swung open the refrigerator door. "Oh wow, I hate to break it to you, but you're right." She gave me an amused smile then shrugged with a sigh. Closing the refrigerator again, she pointed out the window and across the sea. "There should be one in town. We'll take the boat -"

"Oh please, no." I whimpered. "I'm still recovering from the last time you drove it." I shuddered at the memory and she laughed even louder.

"You know I like fast!"

"Oh, I know it alright. In fact, I have a strong inclination that you'll never let me forget it and that secretly, you actually enjoy seeing me suffer."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous Beau – of course I do." She shot back in a cheery voice.

"That's what I was afraid of." I sighed. "Can we at least try not to go over 180?"

"Hey, it wasn't going that fast."

"The whiplash I suffered begs to differ."

"Fine, fine. I'll try to go a little bit slower." She conceded and flashed her dimples innocently at me again, leaning up against the kitchen counter. "But no promises."

"Wouldn't dream of it." I gave her a smile then hurried to the laundry room. Remembering I'd left a load of clean clothes in the dryer the other night, I took up a laundry basket and began to fill it up. The door opened behind me before I emptied the dryer drum completely and I heard a knocking on the doorframe.

"Need help with that?" Edythe asked, holding her arms out towards me.

"I got it, thanks." I smiled again. Once the dryer was finally empty, I turned around, the smell of fresh laundry filling my nose and putting me at ease. I kissed Edythe as I passed her by and she followed me back to our bedroom. I sorted the clothes into different parts of the closet – my shirts in the top left cubby, my pants and khakis folded up below them with my boxers in the bottom drawer of the freestanding dresser and I hung up all of Edythe's dresses in the main space of the closet. It was decidedly harder to organize the rest of my wife's things, though – she had a special location for everything. Shirts in one place, jackets in another, skirts, shorts, and pants somewhere else, and her nightwear and undergarments in the top two drawers of the freestanding dresser - it was nearest to her side of the bed - and this was just at the beach house. I ultimately left those up to her, but tried my best to help out when she wanted me to. She knew I was good at that sort of thing. After putting the empty basket away, I eyed Edythe's flowing white nightgown.

"Want me to get your clothes for you?" I offered, throwing a glance at Edythe from over my shoulder as I grabbed my own change of fresh khaki shorts and a button-up poplin shirt.

She shook her head. "It's fine. Thank you though." She smiled sweetly at me before coming up to my side and browsing through her array of clothes. She picked out her charcoal-gray jeans and paired it with a light gray leather jacket over a flowy white blouse. To my surprise though, she didn't go to change in the bathroom like she's been doing these past few weeks and I debated whether to stay on or move to a different part of the house to give her and myself some privacy. Knowing how it'd make me feel though, I opted to leave the bedroom to her and showed myself into the bathroom, like we were switching places. I pulled on the khakis and buttoned up my shirt, but just as I was straightening out the collar, I heard Edythe cursing me from the other side of the door and I ran outside to check on her.

"What's wrong?" I asked. Her back was to me but her shoulders were hunched forward a little, eyes looking down.

"Beau, what did you do to my jeans?" she asked flatly, tossing me a look from over her shoulder.

"Um, washed them for you?" I began ploddingly. What did I do wrong this time?

"They don't fit." She said between her teeth. "These were my favorites, you know."

Oh shoot.

"Did they shrink?" I asked, walking towards her.

"Yeah, I think they did." She sighed gloomily. Going back over laundry day in my brain, I finally realized with a sudden sense of doom where I had made the fatal mistake. Oh, that's right.

"I put them in hot wash." I confessed and smacked my forehead with my palm. "I just thought – mud, blood, grass stains and just threw it in." I sighed. It was kind of strange though – I mean, in my defense hot wash always seemed to work out just fine for my own jeans. Maybe girl jeans were different though. "Sorry about that." I bowed my head in repentance. I heard her let out a breath before she came up to me and brushed the hair from my face with the back of her cool hand.

"You know what? It's fine, Beau. I guess it was about time I got some new ones anyways." She started to laugh then, and the room brightened up by degrees. I still felt bad about it though, and made to apologize again but she stopped me, putting a cool finger to my lips.

"What did I say about unnecessary apologies?" she reminded me and chuckled.

"Sor-"

"There you go again." She sighed, shaking her head.

"Right." I laughed nervously.

"Yeah." She replied and motioned for me to look at her. "It's really okay though. I could still wear them, you know. Nobody will even notice." She finished confidently with a light shrug of her shoulders. "So, thank you." She added, rocking back on her heels. "Guess that's what I should have said the first time around." She looked down at her hands laced tightly together in front of her and her lips pressed against each other making a thin line. I couldn't believe it, was my wife actually being repentant? And why was I the one feeling bad about that? Makes no sense, right?

"Let's go." She started, choosing not to see the gawking expression on my face. She sauntered away wearing the tight jeans, her easily-swaying curves making me dizzy as I followed helplessly along behind her like a lost puppy. Why did I like how they looked on her now even more than I did before? Was that even possible? Ugh, I'm such a pervert. Realizing my jaw was still dragging on the floor, I hurried to catch up to her, cutting in front so I could open the glass door for her.

"Thanks." When she flashed her dimples at me again, I tripped over one of the potted plants and somehow my foot managed to get caught between the door and the doorframe. Edythe was already holding me up so I didn't faceplant into the wooden veranda and I just wanted to die.

"Nice save." She said with a smirk, but I'm pretty sure she was just complimenting herself – you know, because I'm the one who almost died again and she was the one to have saved me, not the other way around.

"Thanks." I said, turning my face away. She set me back down on my own two feet and touched my shoulders.

"You okay?" she asked, gently now.

"Never better." I said, still looking at my feet and not at her.

"Oh, was it the dimples?" she teased, brandishing them at me again – of course, she was still holding onto me when she did that. I staggered a little but only fell deeper into her arms.

"Every time." I admitted. She let out a little chuckle and pulled away then, patting my shoulder before turning around to continue on towards the boat. I caught up to her and weaved my fingers through hers. Her cool hand squeezed my warm one and she lifted them up to her face before kissing my knuckles.

"I really love you; you know that?" She said quietly so that only I could hear it.

"And I really love you, too." I answered her, letting out a small laugh. She smiled at me before turning her attention back on the stretch of white sand before us, making a pathway. We didn't say anything else as we strode together hand-in-hand, hyper-aware of the other's company and it was just really, really nice; like it was us two against the world.

When we got to the boat, she helped me in. "I'll try for 175. That's most definitely less than 180." she joked as she eased herself into the driver's seat.

"Um, how about 60?" I offered.

"No way! 120."

"80."

"85." She tilted her head so her hair brushed my bare arm heating it up, and she squeezed at the steering wheel.

"Fine." I folded.

"Awesome." Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and she revved up the engine loudly like she was gonna floor it but she didn't – it was just another gratuitous occasion for her to see me squirm. Of course. I kept a close eye on the speedometer, making sure the thin black needle didn't even so much as tick slightly above 85.

"Why don't you enjoy the view or something? The water looks so nice." She caught my hard stare and motioned out around us as we skimmed through the blue breaking waves.

"I'm good."

"What, you don't trust me?" she snorted.

I put a finger on my chin. "Hmm, not quite on this particular matter, no. Have to make sure you keep your promise, you know?" I shot back with a nod of my head.

"What are you, a cop?"

"I'm related to one, so let's just say yeah."

"You're impossible."

"Only as impossible as you are." I shrugged, biting back a smile. "See? We're perfect for each other." I tossed her a grin.

"Mm. I'd say on that we're both agreed." She looked over her shoulder at me and a smile was playing up at the corners of her lips. It made me feel happy, too.

As the shore got closer and closer into view, we finally docked on the sand in our usual place by the giant boulder.

"I'll hail a cab. I'm sure the driver will know of a Pão de Açúcar around here." She said cheerfully.

"Pão de Açúcar?" I asked, furrowing my brow.

"It's one of the largest supermarket chains in Brazil." She answered matter-of-factly, smiling. She waved down a driver who was around the same age as the last one we had, only this guy had a little less hair. He had a large, round belly that made him look like one of those Santa Clauses at the mall around Christmastime and he had on this jaunty little brown cap, like what a golfer would wear on a sunny day. He was friendly enough, but I couldn't read his expression when he looked back at the two of us and eyed our wedding rings since I saw his eyebrows raise and flicker and he just kind of stayed staring at the two of us. Must've thought we were too young or something. I offered him a tentative smile and Edythe conversed with him in Portuguese a little bit. I think that made him loosen up a touch - I mean, how could you not when an angel was so near to you? Once he knew where we were going, he turned his eyes back on the road and started the car, but they were still talking together. They couldn't for much longer though, since his Bluetooth phone thing – this little gray chip attached to his car visor – started to ring and he started having a hands-free conversation with whoever was on the other line. Things started civil enough but then his voice got louder and louder; angrier. I couldn't understand a thing and I kind of just gawked feeling suddenly very awkward for no real reason and my face started to heat up. I mean, it's not like he was talking to us, right? I turned to Edythe – she was laughing so hard without even making a sound, so I knew that she knew what was up.

"I can't tell what's funnier," she whispered into my ear. "His thoughts or what he's saying." I waited for her to continue. "No, I guess the funniest thing is he's saying exactly – and I mean exactly – what's on his mind. I would tell you what exactly those things were, but you're too innocent. Too much profanity." She shrugged lightly and covered her lips with her fingers. "You've got to admire that honesty though." She sighed wistfully, almost in awe, and then she chuckled, letting her head fall on my shoulders.

"Well, what are they talking about?" I whispered excitedly, squeezing her hand and willing her to spill to me all the juicy details.

"Well, there's chickens involved. And some kid's birthday party. Oh! And a sad clown, too." She laughed again, hiding it in my chest.

"That sounds like a pretty entertaining tale to me."

"Oh, it is." She leaned in, ready to explain things even further to me. Just as she was about to though, our driver violently hung up with a huff and turned towards us, apologizing for his behavior. Edythe assured him it was fine with that perfectly composed smile of hers so he would be none the wiser. I could tell she liked him, though - maybe it was for that Honesty she mentioned earlier. Apparently, most humans aren't known for that. She gave my torso a squeeze, resting her head on my chest and I just held her there. A little while later, she turned to look out her window as we passed by a row of colorful shops and buildings, the streets gradually widening and getting a little bigger until we were outside the city limits. After some time on the freeway, the scenery rolled back into the suburbs and finally, we came by this little roundabout road thing that turned into a ginormous parking lot.

"We're here." She pointed out the window.

"Wow." I said, impressed. Straight ahead was this giant green building looming over us, almost like a warehouse. It was really like a giant Wal-Mart and I was already feeling at home in the cool shadow which the building made above us. I got out of the cab first and ran to her side of the door, opening it for her before she could even reach for the handle. She flashed me another smile and took my hand. She thanked our driver – Pablo was his name – and waved him off as he pulled away.

"Shall we?" she held out her hand for me to take.

"We shall." I chuckled and we entered in through the automatic doors.

…

Edythe pulled a cart from the two-lane steel cart rack and handed it to me. I whipped out the grocery list from my pocket to get a basic idea of what we needed. "Let's start with non-perishable stuff first." I started, directing us towards the aisles of dry-goods. For some reason I had a hankering for pasta. Wheeling us over, I grabbed at the boxes on the shelf comparing all the different shapes and feeling a bit adventurous, I settled on the rigatoni – not your standard spaghetti, know what I mean? I heard Edythe laugh. "What's so funny?" I asked, almost hurt.

"Nothing." She chuckled evasively. I pouted a little as I tossed the rigatoni into the basket and pushed on.

"You have a problem with tomato rigatoni?" I challenged her, rolling the "r" in rigatoni to make it sound fancier.

"Very cool." She nodded her head, but the way her eyes narrowed and crinkled made me think it really wasn't that cool to her at all whatsoever. No matter. I was being adventurous. Next, I went looking for some easy pasta sauce I could simmer on the stove. I liked it chunky and I browsed through the array of reds before my hand confidently found and picked up a jar of Prego meat sauce, like the same one I used back home. Gee, I didn't know they sold that brand here! That was pretty exciting to me, until I realized just how sad that sounded. Why oh why am I getting excited over pasta sauce? Edythe took it from me and put it down gently in the cart. She was probably worried I was just gonna toss it in there too, like the rigatoni and my dashed dreams and aspirations of being an exciting husband. I sighed.

"Where to next?" she asked with a laugh.

"Hmm, how about some juice?" I murmured looking down at my list. Now how do you say "juice" in Portuguese again? "Suco." Edythe answered as if she could read my mind. "Thanks." I smiled. Armed with this knowledge I started scanning the aisles, putting my hand over my forehead like a visor. I finally found it, but it was at the other end of the supermarket. As I was rolling down the main aisle of the store with my eyes glued to the wooden aisle 14 sign, I somehow managed to almost crash the cart into a giant bread stand and Edythe had to redirect us so we wouldn't get fined for criminal negligence and destruction of property. She managed to swipe a loaf of bread off of it too at the exact same time and tossed it into the moving cart. "Thanks." I mumbled, unable to meet my wife's eyes and flushing red again. I heard her chuckle. "Don't mention it."

When we finally got there, I tapped my finger on every juice container, reading the flavors out loud. I finally settled on some cranberry-grape juice and Edythe took the bottles from me, putting them in the cart because it was a two-pack and I was me. Apparently, she felt compelled to save me from a number of severe accidents waiting to happen given the nature of those two things in relation to each other. Seriously, did she really think I was that inept? I tried to be offended by the thought, but realizing that she might actually be right I sighed. Anyways, that was the last of the dry-goods I needed so finally, it was time to get the perishables. We careened the cart around several stands of specials and bakery items and found ourselves in the fridge and freezer aisles. I shivered from the cold.

"You didn't bring your jacket, did you?" Edythe asked with a sigh like it couldn't be helped.

"No, but I'm fine, really." I quickly answered her when I saw her unwrapping her fashion scarf from around her neck and shrugging off her leather jacket.

"Take these." She wrapped the scarf around my neck – it was really cold at first, being around her neck and all – and then she rested her jacket on my shoulders like a cape since I couldn't really fit into it otherwise. "Thanks." I said, and my face did that splotchy-red thing again. Maybe I looked like a total weirdo wearing my wife's things but at least I wasn't shivering anymore once her clothes warmed up with my body heat. Plus, they smelled like her, and being wrapped in that sweet, familiar scent of hers made me feel that much more relaxed; and happy. I rubbed at the soft fabrics, feeling them between my fingers. Edythe looked at me and smiled again, but it was a tender one this time; like one a mom would look at her kid with when he was graduating Kindergarten, that it didn't seem like a big deal at first but it really kind of was. Like I was a big deal.

I blushed and fumbled with the list again. "Right, uh, eggs. Eggs and milk. They're usually around the same place, aren't they?" I asked Edythe but realized she probably hadn't gone grocery shopping in a really, really long time. Maybe regular shopping, but not at a place like the supermarket if you know what I mean. Because she didn't need human food. I laughed a little thinking about that and shook my head. I was going to be like that soon too, wasn't I? Maybe this would be my last grocery shopping trip like, ever. But for some reason, the thought almost made me a little… sad, I guess? I always thought of grocery shopping as nothing but a mundane household chore, yet deep down inside I knew I was going to miss it – you know, that automatic habit of going around, checking things off of a list, gathering things up and leaving every Sunday; a standard ritual of sorts, and the satisfaction of finding everything you needed all in one place. Feeling like you've had a productive day. A routine that gets you somewhere; moves you forward like the slow turning of earth in orbit made real way down here that insists life goes on until it doesn't. I grocery-shopped all the time for Mom, for Dad. Mom. Dad. My face darkened contemplating these thoughts and I shook my head again.

I felt my wife's cool fingers circle round and squeeze my arm.

"Beau? What's wrong?" I turned with a start. Her beautiful eyes were amber now and shone, wide and bright.

"It's nothing." I said, trying to plaster on a smile. She furrowed her brow.

"It sure doesn't seem like nothing to me." She shook her head, pressing her lips together so they made a hard line. My shoulders fell and I let out a sigh.

"I'll tell you later." I started pushing the cart again quickly towards the eggs and dairy section. Opening up a carton of a dozen eggs, I scrutinized each and every one with a careful eye, making sure there were no cracks in the whites of the hard yet delicate shells. Checking the expiration date, I nodded approvingly and put them gently down into the top baby seat of the cart so they wouldn't break. Next, I opened up the industrial glass fridge case which held the cartons and cartons of milk and sought out the one with the latest date in the furthest reaches of the shelf so it would last that much longer. I felt Edythe's eyes on me and I turned, flashing her a tentative smile pretending it wasn't awkward for me to have her scrutinizing my every move while I scammed the other shoppers by picking the best and freshest carton of milk for myself.

"What're you looking at?" I asked with a nervous chuckle.

"Just you." Was all she said, but her lips were curved up at the ends. "You're a very captivating specimen, Beau Swan." She flashed her dimples at me and I almost dropped my best milk.

"Um, thanks?" I said, turning away. I don't think I'll ever get used to her beauty. It's going to throw me off for the rest of our marriage – No being had the right to be this beautiful, I knew that for a fact and yet, here she was standing right beside me, and she was all mine. I still couldn't believe it.

"It's true." She said, softly this time. She kissed my lips and patted my chest with her hand before taking my milk with her and placing it in the cart basket. I was sure her beautiful hands were the same temperature as the carton, maybe even colder actually. "So – anything else?" she asked, motioning to the list with two fingers.

"Just some fruits and vegetables. Then we should be done."

"Alright. Lead the way," she paused and lengthened her eyes to give me a teasing look from beneath her long eyelashes, "honey." That was the first time she used that word, like, ever. It stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Did you just call me honey?" I screwed up my eyes and gave her a long, confused stare while my cheeks were doused in crimson, and I pulled her scarf up over my mouth and nose trying to hide them. It didn't help the matter much. She threw her head back laughing that bright, ringing laughter of hers and her curls shimmered like wisps of the sun in the fluorescent lights.

"Yeah, I did. Isn't that what you humans call your spouses?" she teased.

"Um, not really no. At least, not always. Everyone's different." I reasoned, still unable to meet her eyes.

"Mm, yeah. I think I know that pretty well actually- you know, the whole 'everyone's different' thing." She answered raising her perfectly arched eyebrows. "Like us."

"Exactly."

"Can't I still call you that again though?" she asked pretty seriously.

"Of course you can." I meant to say "no, preferably not" but that was impossible. If that's what Edythe wants, that's what Edythe gets. She could call me "Shoefly" for all I care, and I wouldn't even dare to object. I'm pretty sure I was physically incapable of doing such a thing, actually. She showed me a beaming-white smile and followed behind me as I pushed the cart towards the produce area of the store. Zooming around, I picked up a bunch of grapes, bananas, broccoli, and carrots. I grabbed some apples too, both the green and the red ones. I handed Edythe the little plastic bags full of the produce and she put them down gently in the cart basket. I was about to make for the cash registers, but I snapped my fingers, remembering I needed to get some ground meat to make my Prego meat sauce even chunkier. "Wait here." I turned towards Edythe and motioned for her to stay by the cart. I was worried the scent of the raw meat would make her a little thirsty – I had forgotten she hadn't hunted in almost a full week – and she knew this and touched at her white throat, nodding her head. Quickly sprinting over to the meat section, I took a small Styrofoam pack of ground beef and wrapped it in five layers of the plastic bags usually used for the produce and made a tight knot with the excess film. Running back to my wife and the cart, I tossed the meat in and we zoomed to the cash register line together.

When it was finally our turn, I unloaded the cart in a hurry, worried I'd offend the people behind us by taking too long. We watched as the colorful foods passed us by. Edythe came up to the front to pay and flashed a dimpled smile at the guy working behind the register. When she did that, he dropped the price scanner and smacked his hand on a pump of hand sanitizer nearest to the computer. Stammering, he said a number in Portuguese, but Edythe pointed at the last item on the conveyor belt - the loaf of bread - I think telling him that he forgot to ring it up. He blushed and nodded his head quickly, running his hand down the back of his neck and his eyes never left her face as he felt around for the bread. She dimpled up again. When she looked at him like that, I wouldn't have been surprised if he let her walk away with all that food for free. Edythe began to load up all the bags into the cart, and the guy offered to do it for her instead but she kindly turned him down with another winsome smile and began to walk away. I started pushing the cart from behind to get out of the line. As I passed by the cashier, I said to him a very loud, emphatic "thank you" just for kicks and he didn't even bat an eye at me. He just kept staring after Edythe's gorgeous, swaying frame in her little white blouse and tight gray jeans (I mean, who could blame him?) and I heard the ringing of a service bell at the behest of angry customers behind me and laughed so hard as I ran out the door, following closely behind my wife. She so did that on purpose, I could tell.

"Look at that - you left your admirer back there in a hurry and now he's in trouble." I laughed, jerking my thumb in the poor sap's direction.

"But I only have eyes for you." She said and inched closer to me.

"I sure hope so, because I feel the exact same way." I pulled her in for a kiss right outside the automatic doors and I was only mildly aware that everyone could see us there and was pleasantly surprised knowing Mr. Cashier guy would know just what he was missing out on. Edythe giggled as she pulled away and quickly turned back to our groceries, stepping aside. There were seven plastic bags in all. "How are we gonna carry all this?" I laughed, shaking my head.

"I got this." Effortlessly, she lifted the bags all at once – four in one hand, three in the other - high over her head when no one could see.

"You've gotta at least pretend you're a normal human being." I laughed and took some of the bags from her. She bit back a smile, giving me a look from below the dark fan of her voluminous lashes that could blow away Hawaii if they wanted to. She hailed another cab and we got in, putting all our groceries in the trunk before clambering into the backseat together and we started back home.