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The late afternoon sun was low and sinking fast behind the shopping center, leaving a spray of glowing color in streaks across the luminous sky. Bette Jean lagged behind the hurrying bag boy and turned to look at the coral streaks. Brilliant wavy flags billowing across the sky like gossamer silk. She stood for a moment, warmed by the color despite the nip in the air. At last she turned and followed obediently to the rear of the pale blue station wagon where the boy was loading her groceries.
“There you are, Mrs. Lyons,” he said panting, then slammed the rear door and turned to her grinning. “All loaded up and ready to go.”
“Thank you so much.” Bette Jean pressed a coin into his hard young palm. The tall youth blushed in confusion and tried to put the money back in her hand.
“Aw… no… you don’t have to do that. It’s a pleasure to load your groceries and stuff… I mean… well… I like doing it for you…”
Bette Jean insisted and in the fumbling he held her hand far too long, blushing and embarrassed. She felt a tiny little thrill chase up her forearm from the contact and then she too was embarrassed. Oh dear. The boy wasn’t much older than her son, Gary. A stab of fear shot through her then.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.