Mark had been in the apartment a week now. Cindy got the house. Still dark out. He was hungry but he wasn’t sure what he wanted. The refrigerator was empty. A box of cereal in the cupboard. A package of Oreo cookies. He took down the box but remembered there was no milk. He ate three cookies. Had a fourth in his hand. “Milk,” he said with a scowl and pushed the cookie back into the package. A moment later he took it out again, looked at it, and shoved it into his mouth.

He took a shower, shaved, and brushed his teeth. Sunday, he said to himself. It had been a year since Mom passed. Campbell’s Cream of Tomato, that’s what he wanted. That’s what he needed.

Grier’s opened at nine. Nice thing about a place in town, he could walk. Milk, he said to himself. Milk and soup. At the end of the aisle stood a stack of beer boxes. $12.99. He hefted the box and put it in his cart. Then the milk. On the way to the cashier he remembered the soup. He doubled back. Two cans. Then a box of mac n cheese.

The checkout girl was young and cute. “Find everything you need?” she asked. She rang up the milk. The soup. The mac n cheese.

“Chad,” she said to the bagger. “Could you...”

“I could,” Chad said, “but it’s Sunday. No alcohol til noon.”

“Sorry,” said the girl. “You’re such an asshole,” she said to Chad.

Chad smirked.

Mark paid and hefted the bag. Even though it was just four blocks, it would have been awkward carrying the bag and the beer back to his apartment,

“I’m off at one,” the girl said. “If you want to come back.”