The door binged indicating a new customer had entered the store. He didn’t bother to look up. He never did. He didn’t watch as they perused the shelves looking for whatever late night items couldn’t wait until the light of day.
Condoms, cold medicine, unfortunate food choices. He didn’t care. What was he going to do anyway? No one expected much from the one-handed guy willing to work the night shift. He kept his nose buried in his book. They could rob him blind as long as they let him read.
He never looked up until until they plunked their items on the counter and he couldn’t avoid his job of ringing them up.
Tonight as his eyes traveled up from the pint of rocky road on the counter to the knock out blonde, he wished he’d looked up sooner. Dressed to kill and bloody gorgeous. Something didn’t compute. How was it that a woman dressed like that, looking like her, possibly going home alone?
“They always are,” she answered enigmatically with a smile.
As he watched her walk out the door, he realized that for the first time in months he wanted to know more. To connect with someone. His therapist would be so pleased.