Salad, Sandwiches, Dainties and Punch

Chapter 8

Art was dead, and the whole community had watched.  The summer sports day ball tournament had been cancelled as the crumpled wreckage of the accident was still sitting beyond beyond centre field.  The dust had already settled by the time the RCMP, fire department, and ambulance arrived.  There was nothing they could have done even if they had been on sight. 

Nobody really knew what to do or when to leave.  The fire department had brought of the jaws of life to pry the metal apart enough to rescue, recover, Art.  Even after Art had been loaded into the ambulance and taken away people lingered.  "Let's go home," Bill said clearing his throat.  He was at Teresa's elbow. 

They pulled away as the crowd began to disperse.  "I was not expecting that today," Bill said as he took a left over exaggerating his line of vision away from Teresa.  "Me neither," Teresa knew that Bill saying anything must have meant he was rattled.  Bill was a man of few words and she waited to see if he would say anything else. 

"Pull in here," Teresa pointed at the grocery store parking lot and Bill silently complied.  He pulled into a spot and Teresa slid out of her seat.  Bill didn't move, he knew exactly what she was doing.  He unrolled his window and stuck his elbow out the window.  She wouldn't be long. 

Inside the store Teresa knew exactly what she needed for her lasagne.  She always made lasagne for grieving families.  Teresa was about the long game when it came to food.  She knew Dottie would be bombarded with meat trays, fruit trays and veggies trays, but lasagne could be frozen.  It would be appreciated.  She'd write her name on the foil so Dottie would know it was a quality meal when the time was right. 

"Fran!" Teresa stopped with her cart.  "You were there?"  Fran shut the freezer door and slipped some frozen  meatballs into her cart.  She nodded, "It's unbelievable."  "I came right over to get ingredients for a lasagne, and you are making ... meatballs."  Teresa was now just realizing that Fran had always sent meatballs and here she was buying store made frozen meatballs.  How long had she been getting away with this? 

"Yes we'll it's good to have food you can freeze," Fran replied.  She was trying to play to Teresa's sensibilities, cushioning the sting of getting caught buying store boughts.  "My thoughts exactly," Teresa had to agree.  She shouldn't judge Fran for not making them at home from scratch.  She smiled at the familiar memories of Fran walking into many a function with a crock pot full of her "famous" meatballs. 

Teresa snuck a look into Fran's cart as they went their separate ways to see what the box looked liked.  She'd had Fran's meatballs before and they were delicious.  Maybe she would buy store bought some day, but she wasn't about to get caught doing it in her hometown grocery store.  She figured this would be the kind of news that might spread like wildfire and she did not want to be at the centre of that!

On her way to the till Teresa saw five more of her friends on the same mission.  Teresa was social but efficient as she weaved though the aisles collecting her ingredients.  The whole store had heard about the crash.  The ladies at the till had questions for Teresa because they knew she would have been there, but Teresa just solemnly nodded.  They had already heard so Teresa didn't want to dramatize it further, by trying to add details that previous reports had missed.  She had always taught her daughter that you didn't want your name to be attached to the end of the phrase, "I heard it from ..."

Teresa was worried that she had kept Bill waiting, but as she wheeled her cart out to the parking lot she noticed Bill was now out of the car and was standing in a circle of men a few parking spots down.  He broke away from the group when he saw her approaching.  He popped the trunk and came back around the car to help load the groceries into the trunk.  Teresa waved to the group of men when Lloyd called out to her, "Bill says you're making your famous lasagne for Dottie," she smiled knowing that she did make excellent lasagne.  It's always nice to hear a compliment.  "Not as famous as Fran's meatballs I'm afraid," she called back.  Lloyd beamed with pride and Teresa waiting until her back was turned and she was walking back to the car to smile.