when: a spring weekend
where: a grocery store
“Yes, it is.” Finlay unbuckled Olivia from her car seat and picked her up out of the car. He supported her weight with an arm as he shut the door and locked the vehicle. “Do you want to walk, or do you want me to carry you?”
She wiggled in his arms, which was really answer enough on its own. “Walk!”
“Okay— Olivia, you have to stop moving before I can set you down.” She kept squirming around, so he secured his hold on her and waited for the movement to die down. After a minute of no success in breaking free, she finally gave up. Finlay gave her a peck on the cheek and set her down on her feet, finding the end of her leash before standing back up. “There we go. Ready?” The leash and harness were the only things letting him let her walk around anywhere like a parking lot — it stunted her frequent attempts to run off.
She grinned and took off, immediately testing the extent of her freedom. Finlay followed close behind, and shortened the slack as a car pulled down the aisle. She kept running forward toward the store. As she reached the front of the parked row of cars, he tugged back gently on the leash.
“Olivia,” he called out, “stop and wait for me, please.”
He paused for a moment. She stopped in place and looked back at him. Finlay hurried up alongside her and stopped as well, reaching down to take her hand in his.
“Do you see any cars coming?” He asked.
Olivia turned her head from side to side and loudly proclaimed, “No cars!”
Finlay glanced both ways to double check that, then nodded and stepped forward. “Good job,” he said, as they crossed the final strip of parking lot to get to the entrance. “We have to make sure there’s no cars coming so we—“
“—don’ get hurt!” She chimed in, gleefully finishing his sentence.
He squeezed her hand as they stepped through the doors and let go. He pulled a cart from the row and set his bag down in it. “Are you ready to take a seat?”
“Uhuh!” She stretched her arms up, and Finlay scooped her up, settling her into the seat with practiced precision. She stayed still long enough for that, but started pulling at her jacket zipper once she was seated. He just watched quietly as she managed to pull it down and open the jacket. After a half-minute of trying to tug it off, she huffed and threw her arms out. “Need help, daddy.”
“You got it,” he said. Finlay helped her out of the jacket, and draped it over the bag once it was off. “Good job trying it yourself. It’s tougher sitting down.” With her settled, he pushed forward into the store.
As they moved out of the entrance, Olivia groaned and covered her face with her hands. Finlay reached into the bag and fished out a tiny set of sunglasses. He nudged them gently against her hand. Eyes squinched shut, she reached out and grabbed them. Little hands fumbled with the glasses as she clumsily opened them and slid them onto her face. Finlay nudged them up the bridge of her nose the tiniest bit, and she blinked her eyes back open.
“Better?” He asked, as they rolled into the produce section.
She nodded. “Not bight,” she said, and settled a hand on top of one of his as it rested on the handle. Olivia didn’t do well with those bright fluorescent lights, and the sunglasses had been an easy enough solution to helping her keep calm. With that settled, though, she reached out at Finlay expectantly. “List, daddy.”
He reached into the bag again and pulled out the grocery list, passing it over to her. He didn’t used to write everything out, but it’d become routine for her to hold onto the list as they shopped. Though she couldn’t read, she still looked over his writing as he came to a stop in front of a fruit display. He snagged a mesh produce bag out from his bag and filled it with a selection of apples. He settled it into the cart, and pulled out another bag to hold a few stalks of rhubarb. “Do you want any other fruit?” Finlay asked her, leaning against the handle. “There’s oranges and strawberries.”
“Stawberries,” Olivia said, as though she were reading off the grocery list.
“Good choice.” He pushed the cart down the aisle and picked up a carton of strawberries. Giving them a sniff and a quick glance, he set them down in the cart. “Now, let’s get some vegetables, too.”
“…yeah, cabbage.” He couldn’t complain that his daughter was absolutely obsessed with a vegetable, but it was no less perplexing. “We need carrots, spring greens, and radishes, too.”
“Hmmm… okay.” She didn’t sound too thrilled by the rest of those.
Finlay rolled up to the display of vegetables, stopping by the pile of cabbages. “Point to the one you want, Livvy,” he said. She looked over the mound of cabbages carefully, taking her time to make her choice. She finally pointed at one off to the side of the pile. Finlay settled his hand against it. “This one?”
He eased it out of the pile, keeping the rest from shifting too much in its absence, and held it up for her to look at. “Wanna give it a smell?” He asked.
She reached out and grabbed onto it, then very seriously smelled the cabbage. “Is good!” She exclaimed, trying to pull it closer. Finlay let her take it, and she settled it in her lap as he moved the cart down the way to pick up the rest of the vegetables on their list.
“That should be it for produce,” he said. “Ready for the rest?”
Olivia nodded. “Chicken nugget?” She asked, as he pushed the cart along.
“Yeah, we'll get some more chicken nuggets.” They worked their way through aisles of the store, gradually knocking off items on the list (and grabbing a few things that weren’t originally included). Olivia got a say in her snack choices for the next few weeks, though nothing drew quite as much enthusiasm as the cabbage still lovingly cradled in her arms. Some ingredients and staples for the cupboard; another gallon of milk; juice; anything Finlay had noted them being low or out of. His aunt called him meticulous, but she couldn’t complain much when it kept her pantry properly stocked.
Olivia’s attention waned and wavered as they wove their way through the store; by the time they rolled into the checkout line, she was slumped over, head resting on the cabbage in her lap. Her posture read more impending nap than impending tantrum, at least.
He leaned against the handle as they waited for the line to move. “Are you sleepy, Liv?” He asked, softly.
“Yes,” came the muffled reply. “Wanna go home.”
“We’ll be out of here in…” he glanced up at the line before them, calculating how long this would be. “Five minutes, I think.”
“Tha’s so long,” she mumbled. A nap seemed more and more likely by the minute. Finlay watched her doze off as they gradually pulled up to the check-out. He unloaded the rest of the groceries, and had the clerk type in the cabbage. He paid and loaded the cart up, heading back out through the automatic doors.
Olivia stayed sleeping as they rolled out of the store and back to the car; he had to carefully pry the head of cabbage from her hands before he could move her to her car seat, safe & secure for the trip home. She stirred and stretched. Finlay picked a forlorn stuffed animal off the car floor and offered it to her. She pulled it into her arms with a small sigh, holding it as tightly as the car seat would let her.
He closed the rear door and got into the driver’s seat. He allowed himself a moment to relax against the seat and take a deep breath before starting the car up.
(Olivia’s going to nap for at least an hour once we’re back home. Aunt Juliet’s got dinner handled, so I can get at least a little paperwork done in the meantime.)
Finlay started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. In every glance in the rearview mirror on their way home, Olivia stayed fast asleep, slowly losing her hold on the stuffed animal. It finally hit the car floor with a gentle thud. Probably how it’d found itself there the first time.
(Note: bring that thing inside and give it a good wash.)
Back at the house, he was sure to bring Olivia in first. He slipped her shoes off and tucked her into bed, gently sliding a round bird plush into her arms. With her settled, he resumed putting away groceries. Everything found its place, and his aunt stepped into the kitchen right as he finished up with the pantry.
“Olivia’s down for a nap,” he said. “I’ve got some work to take care of in the meantime.”
She nodded and waved him off, and he obediently cleared out of the kitchen to let her handle dinner. It wasn’t like he couldn’t cook, but he knew better than to get in the way. He checked in on Olivia again, glancing into her room to make sure she was still there. She was, and he gently shut the door.
Finlay settled at his desk with a small sigh and opened up his laptop. (Parenting and personal life handled for the meantime. Time to get to work.)