xp_logs | Operation: Shaboom: Groceries (Reply)

Marie-Ange finds herself at the grocery store, and runs into Wanda there. And then somehow, mysteriously, she buys a pineapple.

Wanda, as Ana, stood contemplating the price of fresh fruit in the grocery store. Her husbands job came with a very decent pay but finding the best bargains was simply a mattered of principal. And even with him gone, she needed to keep the pantry well stocked. After all, at a moments notice William might come home or one of the ladies from the church might come calling. Or certain other people. A small smile touched her lips as she picked out a pound of apples.

Marie-Ange's trip to the store had been a frustrating mixture of putting things she understood how to heat up on the stove in her basket, and then finding things that she had no idea how to cook in the basket without any clear memory of how they'd gotten there. She was busy putting the trio of fresh peaches carefully back on their neat stack when she saw Wanda inspecting apples with a critical eye. "Mrs. Simons, I really must get your pie recipe for the diner. Ours just do not compare to yours.."

When Wanda turned, there was a brief flash of irritation in her eyes but it was soon replaced by a polite smile. "Why Miss Mary Ann, I do have to say it is a pleasure to see you having an interest in cooking finally," she said sweetly. It was her duty as a high ranking church member to lead the young children back to the flock. Mary Ann was simply avoiding the inevitable. "It is such a rewarding experience, is it not?"

Maybe Wanda would snap out of it. "I suppose. It still all seems so complicated, measuring and finding just the right time to cook things at. One thing at a time, maybe I can do that, but more then one and I get so confused." She picked up one of the peaches, looking it over and prodding it for soft spots. "If it wasn't for the diner, and taking extra food home, why, I'd just make soup from a can every night.." She frowned - at the peach, instead of looking at Wanda. ~Please. PLEASE understand what I mean. Please be Wanda.~ she mentally pleaded.

There was a gentle reproach to Ana's tone. "The church does offer cooking classes for those without the skills," she reminded her. "And beyond that, we have enough functions that deal with food -- it is a community service for everyone." This was probably the most that Mary Ann had spoken to her in quite some time and while she needed to visit the bakery, she was taking the most of it. If they could only get her to realize she was living a life of sin, then they could save her.

The redhead frowned slightly, and shook her head in the negative. "Well, I don't know if I have time for classes on cooking, with work. A girl has to pay the bills somehow, and I'm already taking a stenography course by correspondence." She straightened her posture slightly, as if she was quite proud of herself. "Mrs. Simons, you've always been so kind to me, but some of the ladies there, I don't think I'd be welcome.."

Now a more sincere smile came across the older woman's face. "Do not worry yourself about them for one more moment," Ana said firmly but kindly. "I can handle my fellow church goers quite well and it is, frankly, more important to focus on your immortal soul than their tongue wagging. You should come and visit me next Sunday while I teach Sunday School. Your help would be most appreciated."

Mary-Ann went pink with embarrassment over the praise. "Oh, I don't know. I'm good with kids, what girl isn't? But what kind of help could I really give you? And I have to work Sundays. So many people come in right after Church, some of the older men, you know, who don't have anyone to cook for them, no families. We get real busy."

Ana pursed her lips thoughtfully. It was obvious that underneath, the girl was probably quite open to rejoining their church. It would just take some time. "Earning a living until you can find a nice boy is certainly a good thing," she said. "But we also have Saturday evening activities as well -- would you mind helping me with our next social?"

Taking Mary-Ann under her wing meant that it would be the fastest way to get her back in the church ladies good graces.

Sinner or not, she was young and could be guided to a better life.

Saturday nights? But she was usually busy Saturday nights. Not that any of her regular flings would notice one way or another. It wasn't usually the same guy every week. And it might mean getting out of the diner, off her sore feet, and away from old men who kept leering at her or trying to look down her blouse.

It was one thing when boys her age did it. That was flattering in a way. But old men? They were just icky.

"I.. I guess I could. When is it? What would I have to do?" she asked.

Ana gestured around them. "Nothing too hard," she reassured her. "Mrs. Donald was supposed to bring the fruit salad for next week's meeting but I hear she is under the weather. Would you mind doing it for us?"

"All I would have to do is cut up some fruit? Heck, I do that for the diner most every other day!" Mary-Ann said, beaming. She picked up a pair of peaches from the stack, and put them in her basket. "Oh, and there's some fresh pineapple too! I wonder if they're very hard to cut up." She smiled nervously at Mrs. Simons and put another peach in the basket. "I should finish my shopping. There's a dance tonight, and I want to get home and change into something prettier." She was still wearing her uniform from the diner, short-sleeved blouse and skirt, and a checkered hairband.

It was odd, having a conversation with Mrs. Simons, she thought. She hadn't spoken to her in years, not since she'd been in her Sunday school classes. But she was so nice, and welcoming, and maybe learning to cook wouldn't be so hard after all. She'd already taught herself how to type, and that hadn't been a bit hard.

A better job, at the factory, maybe some cooking lessons. She could meet a nice man, not one of the greasers or garage boys, they didn't have any kind of future to them. Maybe even have a family.

It would be nice to have a few dreams come true, after all.

Ana felt a familiar rush of pleasure float through her. This is what she liked to see -- the gentle draw of the church and community. Those that wandered would suffer but there was always redemption for those who truly believed. It started with the littlest of steps and if cutting fruit was one of those, so be it.

"Well, then, Miss Mary-Ann, I will be seeing you next week. I am looking forward to your fruit salad and your company." Smiling, she nodded to the younger woman and turned to finish her shopping.

Several lanes away, Wanda stared down into her basket, sighing in frustration. "I hate imost of this stuff," she muttered, resigned for the time being. Maybe the next time she saw Marie-Ange, she'd get her coworker to smuggle her something greasy from the diner.

Mary-Ann paid for her sparce groceries, and the pineapple, which she'd resolved to figure out how to cut up, giving Jimmy, the bagger, a peck on the cheek as she picked up the paper sack. "You're real sweet, but I can carry it home. Besides, silly, I'll see you at the hop."

She was four blocks away before Marie-Ange realized that she didn't remember anything of the conversation with Wanda after talking about soup, and she especially didn't remember buying a -pineapple-. What the hell was she going to do with a pineapple?