Guilty Pleasures

As I sloshed through the puddles to my car, I vowed never to go to another engagement party again. Enduring the pitying looks and condescending smirks of my less than subtle relatives was enough to make a sane girl crazy. I know my younger sister is now the happy fiancée of my old boyfriend. They didn’t have to rub it in. I’d had enough. I couldn’t even summon the energy to fight with my contrary umbrella; I just threw it down on the pavement, entered the somewhat dry confines of my beat up little Miata, and watched the broken pink and white striped nylon float on the stream of dirty water heading to the storm drain.

I needed my guilty pleasures on a night like this.

Heading to the nearest Piggly Wiggly, I pulled into the parking lot, kicked off my now ruined-but-I-paid-a-fortune-for-them-so-I-vow-to-salvage-them Jimmy Choo’s, and raced barefoot into the store. My dark brown hair was no longer in sexy waves, but hung limply around my head and I was pretty sure the mascara that helped to make my dark brown eyes pop was streaking down my face. Making straight for the liquor aisle, I spied my first item – Kahlua. Grabbing it like a life preserver in an ocean of misery, I then proceeded to the bakery. Ah, the lovely smells of all things bad for you had my mouth watering in anticipation. I wandered down the aisle like the dessert addict I was; searching for just the perfect blend of sweetness and decadence. At the end, I saw it – the creamy perfection of a turtle cheesecake. And not just any turtle cheesecake, the Sweet Pea’s Cakes and Pies Perfection Cheesecake. I knew it was ridiculously priced at $40, but it was worth every delicious, sinful bite.

I snatched it up, juggled the Kahlua to fit under my arm and sauntered back to the front checkout. I only had about $75 in my checking account, and I was probably going to regret this in the morning, but at the moment, I just didn’t care. There was only one cashier at this time of night and only one family stood in the way of me and my guilty pleasures. Maybe God was finally giving me a break.

As I relayed my purchases to the conveyor belt, I took stock of the folks in front of me. A mother, a young girl, maybe ten or twelve, and a small boy. The boy was obviously shy, clinging to his mother’s leg, while the girl seemed to be consumed with looking everywhere but at the cashier. I wondered if she had pocketed some candy or something. She looked scared and guilty. It took a moment, but I soon realized why she seemed so embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but this LINK card isn’t working,” the bored cashier intoned.

“I don’t understand. I know there is at least one hundred dollars on it. I was very careful,” she whispered. “We don’t get more until next week.”

“Well, unless you can pay for it in cash or a debit, you’re just going to have to leave.”

“Please, Mom. Let’s go. We don’t need this stuff. Let’s just go,” the young girl murmured as she tugged on her mother’s arm.

“Just a minute, honey. I know there’s been a mistake.” The mother turns to me. “I’m so sorry. But there’s been an error. We need this.”

I murmured my understanding as I took in the meager plastic bags and one gallon of milk. The girl was now beet red and her brother was clinging to his mother, sensing her unease. I glanced back at my guilty pleasures and came to a quick decision. I had been that little girl once upon a time. I may not have much and my heart had been broken, but it was still beating.

“Here…my treat,” I murmured as I cleared her card and slid my debit card down the machine.

“Oh no! I can’t..,” the woman started with tears in her eyes, but I stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“It’s okay. I’ve been there.” I nodded to the girl. “I’m just paying it forward.”

The cashier handed her the receipt and she murmured her thanks once again. The young girl gathered the bags, never looking at me.

“It will get better,” I whispered.

“You look like a drowned rat.” She smirked then headed out behind her mother.

“Well! That was rude. And after all you did for them,” the cashier huffed.

But I understood. The only thing the child had left was her pride. I remembered that, too. I looked at my purchases. Couldn’t afford those now, but maybe my heart was a bit lighter.

“I don’t think I’ll be needing these,” I murmured. I sensed someone behind me, and hastened to the door.

Outside the rain was still pounding. I dashed for the car and opened the door. A hand touched my arm and I jumped.

“Sorry to scare you. You left these.” A deep voice murmured as I took in the bags.

I looked up to see blue eyes twinkling back at me through the raindrops that plastered his dark hair to his head. My heart hitched. Maybe it wasn’t broken after all.

“I didn’t…” I stammered.

“Yes, you did. I was behind you. I’m Jason Wiggly, by the way.” He smiled. “Care to grab some coffee with me and share your goodies? You snatched the last turtle cheesecake. It’s my guilty pleasure.”

I laughed. “Mine too! So where do two drowned rats find a coffee shop around here?”

He offered his arm. “Follow me. I know the owner. He won’t mind if we use his bakery.”

I curled my arm around his and together we walked back into the store.