Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ellie

Even though I don't approve of Zach's reputation, he's never been unkind to me. I mean, heck, he's washing the cottage windows and he's taking me to lunch. Having said that, I remind myself not to be sweet-talked into thinking he's anything more than he is—a man with more money than sense.

Zach comes back to the table a few minutes after leaving. He doesn't bother to say anything, he simply sits down and takes a bite of his cheeseburger. We eat in silence until Shirley May comes over with the check.

As she gives it to Zach, I tell him, "I'll pay for my own."

Pulling out a hundred-dollar bill from his billfold, he hands it to Shirley. "The bill is mine," he tells me with a smile. Then he turns back to Shirley May. "The change is yours."

She grabs the money and quite literally runs away with it. "That's a pretty big tip," I tell him.

He shrugs. "I like to leave a good tip when the service is good."

"Yeah, but you probably left her twice what the actual bill was." Why am I fighting him on this ?

"What's your point?"

I wipe my mouth with my napkin before declaring, "You can't possibly do that every time you eat out."

His green eyes narrow slightly. "Why is that?"

My super articulate response is, "Because, well … you just can't."

Zach stands up. "Are you ready to head back to your house now or do you mind if we stop so I can get some groceries on the way?"

Getting out of the booth, I tell him, "We can stop. I need to pick up my mom's pain medication. The pharmacy is right next door to the market."

"I hope she's okay," he says while leading the way out to the car.

"She's got osteoarthritis," I tell him. "She's in a lot of pain."

Opening the car door for me, he asks, "Do you have her on a turmeric supplement? It's great for inflammation."

"I don't," I tell him. "Her doctor never mentioned that."

"Most western medicine practitioners push prescriptions, not natural remedies." Once he gets inside, he adds, "I think both have their place."

"Do you take turmeric?"

"Ever since my injury in college," he tells me. "I don't like the fuzzy-headedness I get from pain meds."

This is the last conversation I thought I'd be having with Zachary Hart. "Maybe I'll look for it at the pharmacy."

"I'll give you some when we get back to the cottage. That way your mom can try it for a couple of weeks to see if it works for her."

If I were in the mood to think nice things about Zach, I might think he was trying to save me money. Either way, it makes a small dent in my irritation toward him. "That would be nice, thank you."

Zach takes the first right turn and circles around the block until we're at the store. Once again, he walks around the car to open the door for me. This time I let him. "I'll meet you in the market after you're done at the pharmacy," he says before striding away.

I stand still and watch him, wondering what kind of man he really is. He's been decent to me, but he might be a different animal entirely with a woman he's romantically interested in.

I ponder that while I stroll over to the pharmacy. "Hey, Jamie. How are you?" I spot Jamie Feinberg, who was in my graduating class in high school. She left town to get her college degree and then came back and went into business with her dad as co-owner of the pharmacy. She's married to Mitch Hanks, another of our classmates, as well as being the town veterinarian.

"Ellie, how are you? How's your mom?"

"She's in a lot of pain. I'm here for her prescription."

Jamie turns around and looks through the filing cabinet until she finds my mom's medicine. "There's a twenty-dollar co-pay," she tells me.

While twenty bucks isn't a lot to ease my mom's discomfort, these things add up. "That's twice what it was last month," I tell her.

"The cost of everything is skyrocketing," she commiserates. "Do you know my kid's favorite cereal is almost eight dollars a box? It was under four last year."

"I don't know how folks are making it," I tell her. Handing over a twenty, I wonder how much longer my mom and I are going to make it. If she goes into a home, it's going to cost a fortune. And the sale of the house won't cover her care indefinitely.

I chit chat for a couple more minutes before heading over to Higgens'. I promised my mom I'd make some chicken and potato soup. I might even bake a fresh loaf of bread if I'm feeling ambitious.

Grabbing a cart, I push it over to produce where I pick up some onions, celery, carrots, garlic, and fresh ginger. I pass by Emmy Roberts who works at the local bookstore, Falling for Books. Like me, she's a caretaker. But in her case, she takes care of her grandmother, which seems way more normal at our age. I'd stop to say hello, but Emmy appears to be totally engrossed by her shopping list.

I veer my cart around to the back of the store to get a whole chicken. I'll roast the bones before adding it to the broth, not only for the extra flavor but extra vitamins that will leach out. That's where I run into Zach. He's talking to Bennet, the butcher.

He asks, "Do you have any Prime steaks?" Bennet looks at him like he's off his meds.

"I don't even have Choice," he tells Zach. "If you're looking for Prime, you've got quite a drive ahead of you." When Zach doesn't respond right away, Bennet offers, "But if you want something delicious, I've got some amazing Chinook. It just came in this morning."

Zach nods his head. "I do love salmon. I'll take four pounds."

"Four pounds of salmon?" I demand from behind him. He practically jumps out of his skin.

"Is that a problem?"

I look at the twenty-four dollar a pound price tag and then back to him. Wh o spends a hundred bucks on fish for one person? "I guess if you don't mind eating it day and night until you've finished it …" He and I clearly live on different planets.

Bennet wraps the gorgeous fillets in white paper and hands them over to Zach before asking me, "What can I get for you, Ellie?"

I try to do a Vulcan mind meld on Zach and will him to walk away, but it doesn't work. So, I tell Bennet, "I need a whole chicken, but it doesn't have to be a big one."

It's no secret that my mom and I aren't loaded, so he smiles knowingly while saying, "I've got some dark meat parts on the bone for a fraction of the cost. You want those?" While I wish he didn't have to say this in front of Zach, I'm not so high in the instep that I don't appreciate a bargain. "That's perfect, Bennet. The dark meat will taste great in my soup. "

Bennet used to be friends with my dad when he was alive. He tried to keep up with my mom, but her health took such a turn that she doesn't see many people anymore. After wrapping up my order, he hands it over. "Give your mom my best, will you?"

I agree to do that while taking the package from him. Walking away, I tell Zach, "I just need to get some yeast and then I'm done. Should I meet you in the car?"

"How about walking around with me and showing me where everything is?"

I'm about to tell him I don't know where they keep the caviar, but I think better of it. Instead, I investigate his cart and ogle the healthy selections, before asking, "What else do you need?"

"Frosted Flakes, milk, and ice cream."

"Frosted Flakes?" I giggle.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

Pushing my cart toward the cereal aisle, I tease, "I took you more for a Raisin Bran kind of guy."

"Why in the world would you think that?" Good, he's taken the intended offense.

I shrug my shoulders. "Raisin Bran seems sensible and grown up. Frosted Flakes is kind of childish." He looks stunned at my assessment but doesn't comment on it. I tease, "What kind of ice cream do you get? Bubblegum?"

"Very funny. I'll have you know I like butter pecan, mint chocolate chip, and pistachio."

"What about cookie dough? That's my favorite."

"I've never had it," he says.

I stop walking so I can shout right at him. "You're kidding?"

"No."

"Zach, your nephews practically live on cookie dough ice cream. In fact, you should probably get them some while you're here."

"Fine. I'll get them some and I'll get me some. I'll let you know my verdict."

Even though I don't want to talk to Zach all the time, I realize I won't be able to keep my distance entirely. I mean, in addition to staying in a cottage on the same property I am, he's sure to be at the ice rink a lot. "You'll like it," I assure him.

"What if I don't?" The grin on his face makes it clear he's teasing.

"You will."

Zach and I continue our stroll through the aisles, which feels uncomfortably domestic. It's the kind of thing I'd do with a boyfriend or husband, not a tenant.

After paying for our stuff, we drive back to the house. I tell Zach, "I need to check on my mom and then go back to the rink for my last lesson of the day. I got most of the inside of your place cleaned, but I'll have to stop by tomorrow and pick up the curtains for washing."

"What about the windows?" he wants to know.

"The windows are your job."

"I thought you had to approve of my work before allowing me to stay tonight," he says playfully.

I don't take the bait. "At this point, the place is yours for two months. Wash the windows, don't wash the windows. I don't care."

As I walk towards the front door of my mom's house, he calls out, "I'll let you know about the ice cream!"

I wish he wouldn't. While Zach and I had a nice enough day—considering I tried to pick a fight with him through most of it—I really don't need to get to know him any better.

The last thing I want is to fall for a spoiled rich guy who has the world at his feet.