Heaven Beside You by Christa Maurice Page B

discovered they hadn’t even bothered to exchange addresses or phone numbers. Up there on the mountain by herself, the town would only have her word as to whether their speculations were true or false.
    So involved debating the whys, with and without nots, she nearly went face first into Irma Tompkins’s shopping cart in front of the Ragu spaghetti sauce display. Before joining the older woman’s collection of flour, sugar, and produce in her basket, she skidded to a stop. “Hello, Mrs. Tompkins.”
    “Oh, Cassie.” The old woman beamed, revealing a whole new set of wrinkles in her wizened face. “How nice to see you. Have you been to see Sue yet? Bob and I are going to give dancing lessons.”
    She sounded so excited, Cass smiled back. “I heard. That should be fun.”
    “Oh, we think so. I met Bob at a dance you know. He was going to the war. He wrote often, but right before D-Day his letters stopped and I thought he’d found someone else. Then I found out they weren’t delivering the letters so the Germans couldn’t find out where the troops were going.” Irma looked back at the bottles in her hand. “You know I wish they had just stuck to plain old Ragu Spaghetti Sauce. There are too many choices now.”
    “I thought you canned your own sauce, Mrs. Tompkins,” Cass said.
    “I do, but every once in a while I like to walk on the wild side.” She grinned again as she set down the two jars in her hands. “Maybe next time. Goodbye, Cassie.”
    “Goodbye, Mrs. Tompkins.” Jarred sauce was a walk on the wild side? Irma had no idea. In the frozen foods aisle, the wild side was probably picking out pizzas at this very moment.
    And he wouldn’t be going on sale every other month. He was very much a once in a lifetime event.
    “Cass?”
    She blinked back to the present. Angela stood next to her with a shopping cart. She’d piled Jason’s deli order in the child seat. “Yeah?”
    “I thought Mr. Callisto might need a cart. Once I got all this stuff together, and I remembered he had all that soup, I thought he might need one. Do you think he does?”
    Angela was going to think herself a hole in the floor. “You know I bet he does.” One pound of ham, honey cured. One pound turkey, roasted. One pound loaf of Italian bread, sliced thin. Half a pound of cheddar cheese. One quart each of potato salad, macaroni salad and broccoli salad. A small jar of mayonnaise and a small bottle of mustard. Picnic food. If she didn’t relent and have him over for dinner he was going to be eating picnic food, soup and frozen pizza his entire stay.
    If she did have him over, it would mean spending another evening alone with him just a few feet away from her bed. The Zydeco beat started up again inside her. “He’s in frozen foods. Let’s go find him.”
    Jason was perusing pizzas. He had a small pile of Healthy Choice meals at his feet. At least he was trying. As soon as he heard them walking toward him, he looked up and gave her one of those smiles that made her hot and cold and slightly insane. Beside her and still pushing the cart, Angela sucked in a sharp breath, apparently believing the smile intended for her.
    “Hello, Mr. Callisto, I brought your deli order and I thought you might need a cart,” Angela muttered.
    Cass folded her arms and took a step back.
    “Thank you, Angela, I guess I do. Are these any good?” He held up a family size meatloaf meal.
    “Oh, it’s okay I guess. I make my own.” Angela clenched her hands in front of her until the knuckles went white.
    “I’ll bet you do. You’re probably a wonderful cook.” He smiled at Angela, turning up the wattage on his charm.
    Should she be jealous about this? Hmm. Well, she wasn’t, which was a good thing. If she were, that would mean she felt proprietary toward him, and she didn’t want that.
    “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Angela giggled. “I suppose I’m okay. I could bring you a meatloaf dinner if you wanted.”
    “You don’t have