Chapter 13 - THE GROCERY STORE REDUX
Two months later.
A crisp, sunny Saturday in January.
The sidewalks of Cobble Hill were dusted with a light layer of sparkling snow.
Outside the very same corner grocery store where their nightmare had begun seven months earlier, life moved at its ordinary, peaceful pace.
Shoppers carried brown paper bags of fresh produce.
Children bundled in puffy winter coats laughed as they chased pigeons near the crosswalk.
A black luxury sedan pulled up to the curb.
Marco sat behind the wheel, listening to jazz, tapping his fingers against the leather.
The rear door opened.
Gabriel stepped out onto the sidewalk, wearing a casual navy pea coat, dark denim, and leather boots.
He looked like an ordinary, remarkably handsome Brooklyn father.
He turned and offered his hand to Claire.
Claire stepped down onto the snowy curb.
She was eight and a half months pregnant now, magnificent in a soft cream-colored wool coat that buttoned comfortably over her large baby bump.
Her cheeks were rosy from the winter air, her hazel eyes dancing with amusement.
“Gabriel,” she teased, looking up at the grocery store sign.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Very serious,” Gabriel said with a straight face.
“We need apples.”
“And eggs.”
“And I believe you mentioned last night that we were out of chocolate ice cream.”
Claire laughed, looping her arm through his.
“You’re ridiculous.”
They walked through the automatic sliding glass doors into the warm, brightly lit store.
Aisle Four looked completely ordinary.
The shattered glass had been replaced months ago.
The metal shelving was stocked with colorful cereal boxes.
No shell casings.
No blood.
Only the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights and the cheerful beeping of the registers.
Gabriel took a red shopping cart.
He pushed it down Aisle Four, walking slowly beside Claire.
He stopped directly in front of the dairy case.
He reached in and pulled out a carton of organic whole milk.
He set it gently into the cart.
Then he reached into the egg display and pulled out two cartons of farm-fresh brown eggs.
He didn't put them back.
Claire watched him, her heart melting with tenderness.
“Do you remember what you said to me right here?” she whispered, leaning against his shoulder.
Gabriel turned to face her.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his hands lightly over her back.
“I asked if the baby was mine,” Gabriel said softly.
“And you asked who made me cry,” she reminded him.
“Nobody will ever make you cry again, Claire,” Gabriel promised.
He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips, right there in the middle of Aisle Four.
At the end of the aisle, an elderly woman pushing a cart of oranges stopped and smiled warmly at them.
“You two make a beautiful family,” the woman said.
Gabriel looked at the woman and smiled.
A real, open smile.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Gabriel said.
“She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
They walked to the checkout registers.
Claire watched the cashier scan the milk, the eggs, the apples, three pints of chocolate fudge ice cream, and a large bottle of prenatal vitamins.
The digital screen flashed the total:
$64.50.
Gabriel didn't pull out a black titanium credit card.
He pulled out his wallet.
He pulled out three crisp twenty-dollar bills and a five.
He handed them to the teenage cashier.
“Keep the change, son,” Gabriel said.
The teenager grinned.
“Thanks, sir! Have a great weekend!”
Gabriel carried the two paper grocery bags in his left arm, his right hand firmly clasping Claire’s.
They walked out into the winter sunshine.
As they reached the car, Claire stopped on the sidewalk.
She suddenly gasped, her hand flying to the lower curve of her stomach.
Gabriel froze, his eyes widening in instant alarm.
The grocery bags dropped onto the hood of the car.
“Claire? What is it? A contraction?”
Claire looked up at him, her eyes wide, half in shock, half in wonder.
She looked down at her boots.
A small splash of clear water darkened the snow beneath her coat.
May you like
“Gabriel...” Claire whispered, her breath catching.
“My water just broke.”
