SUNDAY AFTERNOONS

I met her in the liquor store this afternoon. I noticed her as she approached the line waiting at checkout, her from one side, me from the other. If I was to guess her age, I’d give her late 80’s, but a young at heart late 80’s. Her round face dimpled under a head of a gray, cut in a short, sporty style. She was wearing a nice, fashionable brown and beige pant suit, and one inch heels that tapped the floor as she walked. Earrings, necklace, and bracelets – everything matched. It reminded me of my mom.

When I signaled her to go ahead of me, she gave me one of those lovely, big, warm grins and said thank you.

“We’re in no hurry on a Sunday afternoon, are we?” she remarked.

“Certainly not!” I responded. I lifted my bottle of red. “If it takes too long, we can drink this while we’re waiting.”

She giggled and mimicked my action with her bottle of white. “Now there’s an idea!”

The people around us laughed too, the couple closest to us making the ‘Cheers’ sign with the beverages they were holding.

It was her turn at the cash. When she pulled the money from her purse, two or three folds of tissue fluttered to the floor. I could see she had some difficulty when bending to pick them up, but they had landed between her feet so I would have had to push her away to help at all. She managed, shoved them back into her purse, then accepted her change from the cashier, and some of it hit the floor too.

“Oh my!” she said, as she attempted to recover them. This time I could help her; she reached for one coin while I reached for the other.

“And we haven’t even drunk our wine yet!” I joked.

“Chocolat!” (pronounced shock-a-la in French) she exclaimed, her eyes wide with a pretense of horror. "Imagine what I’ll be like after I do! I think I’ll be kissing my bed early enough!”

By this time all the customers were paying attention, and shared our mirth, as did the young lady ringing up our purchases. My transaction was finished by the time she got herself together, and we exited at the same time. Her vehicle was parked beside mine.

“Have a nice day,” I told her as I opened my truck door. Once again that big, warm grin. She waved the bottle at me.

“I intend to!” she answered gaily.

You gotta love Sunday afternoons in our small town.

I SMILED all the way home.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.