She's the One

“Hey! Can I help you with that?”

A man approached Recita as she exited the grocery store and began pushing her cart full of groceries towards her car.

“Oh, yeah!” she said, taken aback, in her infectious southern drawl, her teeth whose beaming shine one could see from miles away. “You’re so sweet. Sure, I’d really appreciate that.”

“Of course,” the man said as he grabbed the cart and pushed. “My pleasure.”

Recita couldn’t help but notice he was rather handsome. He sported a neatly shaven beard and had deep brown eyes and a smile just as killer as her own.

“Is this your car?” he asked, pointing to a turquoise Nisan Altima.

“Yes, she sure is. Let me pop her back real quick.”

The man grinned, warmed by her bubbly charm.

“Do you live around here?” he asked as he lifted the first paper bag into her trunk.

“I sure do,” she answered eagerly, following his lead with the second bag. “What about you?”

“Uhh, yeah…” he slowed. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?” she giggled. “Well, I think either ya do or ya don’t!”

“I live in the area,” he said. “For now. Just kinda, uhh… Passing through.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what brings you to town?” Recita asked as she loaded the next bag after him. “It’s a pretty small one—not too many casual browsers in these parts. You got family ‘round here? Some friends or somethin’?”

“Oh no,” he said, and Recita paused for a moment, gazing at him while she awaited the rest of his answer.

“Oh, well, you know… I just like to kinda… shop around, ya know? Try out different cities and towns. Explore, that sorta thing.”

“Ah,” said Recita. “So you’re a wanderer! Just be goin’ around wanderin’, huh? No real ties to places. Or folks!”

“Uhh yeah… I guess you can say it's somethin’ like that.” He gently rubbed his coat pocket on his side before reaching for the next bag.

“Well, welcome to good ol' Hazy Creek! A solid population of two-whole-hundred!” Recita chuckled again.

“Oh it isn’t that small, I know…” he said.

“I know, I know,” she snickered. “I’m just foolin’. It’s way more people here than that, but sometimes it feels that small, ya’ know?””

“Oh yeah? How so? Everyone know around here know everyone or something?”

“Well, kinda. Folks here mostly keep to themselves, but you will see some of the same ol' mugs from time to time.”

“Hmm, I see,” he replied, and his hand circulated the same coat pocket, it slightly raised as it moved across. “About how often?”

“Mmmm not that often. Maybe every couple of months or so.”

“Oh. You have family here?”

“I do. Well, I did. My parents went on to the Lord years ago, and I’m the only child. And since both of them were the tots of their clans, most of the rest of my people were always older, and many of them have long ago gone on to the Lord, too.”

Recita went to grab the last bag, but the man carefully grabbed it from her and loaded it before shutting the trunk.

“The few left, I’m not that close to,” she continued. “But I see them from time to time.”

“Oh. What about friends? You seem like you would have plenty.”

“Ehh, kinda—well, having friends as a whole, I wouldn't say plenty.” Recita leaned against her car, her hands rested on her hips. “Many of them moved away to other places. Big, fancy cities, all across the world. I personally never cared to. Always content with good ol’ Hazy Creek! I like it because I know it, ya’ know? It’s familiar. No surprises!”

“Oh, I don’t know—a good surprise every now and then never hurt nobody,” he said as he pushed the emptied cart to the nearest cart rack.

“Maybe not, but I’ve enjoyed my life pretty well so far mostly without 'em. Well, except for those who passed on. But I suppose not all of them were that much of a surprise…”

“I see. Yeah, life can be pretty rough sometimes. But I must say, this place does seem like a pretty charming little neck of the woods.”

“Oh it is!” Recita beamed.

“With equally charming little people, I see.” His eyes flirted, leaving her blushing.

“Oh I don’t know about all that,” she replied coyly.

“Oh I do,” he smiled brightly. “You sure are a very pretty little lady."

“Well, thank you very much, sir.”

“Oh, don’t call me ‘sir’. Call me ‘John’.” He slightly bowed his head.

“Well, it’s very delightful to meet you, John. That's a pretty common one around these parts. You have a last name?”

“Ohh not one much more interesting,” he briefly glanced away.

“Well? Don’t you wanna know my name?” she playfully asked next.

“Oh. Umm yeah, sure. What’s your name?”

“Recita.”

“Oh, Recita. That’s a pretty unique name.”

“Well thank you, and yes, it is. I was named after my fearless grandmama! Cerita Lewis!”

“Ah. That’s nice,” he said as he shifted from one foot to the other. “Say, are you meeting up with anyone today? Or have anything else going on anytime soon?”

“Mmm no, I don’t think so. Why you ask?”

“Why don’t you come show me around town for a bit? Introduce me to all the cool, interesting spots around here. A good coffee shop or bookstore, maybe go catch a movie at one of your theaters here or something?”

Recita’s eyes narrowed for a moment as she considered his invite.

“Okay! I don’t suppose I have much else goin’ on, and sounds like it could be pretty fun. So, I would be just delighted to! Should we take your car or mine?”

“Uhh how about mine?”

“Well, alright. Such the gentleman—you don’t see that around here too often anymore, so I’ll take it! Uhh well, let’s see… I don’t wanna just leave my car here at the store…”

“Yeah, let’s not do that. Didn’t you say you live nearby?”

“I do! If you follow me, I can go drop it off, hop in yours, and we’ll head on out!”

“That sounds great,” the man again shone his radiating pearly whites as they both parted to their respective transportation.

About 10 minutes later, they arrived at Recita’s home, a humble one-bedroom two-story in the middle of a family-friendly neighborhood, and Recita parked her Altima in her driveway.

John sat in his car as it idled on the street out front.

Recita stepped out and gestured at him.

“Hey!” she shouted, and John rolled down his window.

“I’m gonna drop the groceries off and freshen my makeup up real quick. Come on inside!”

“Oh. Uhh… I thought we were gonna go ahead and just…” he looked around his car for a moment.

“Oh yeah, I know, but I bought a few cold thangs, ya’ know,” said Recita. “And I don't want them to go bad!”

“Umm okay.. Yeah—yeah, sure,” John said before turning off the ignition and stepping out. He glanced around for a moment and sunk his head, patting his pocket a little more forcefully than before.

After carefully helping Recita unload the groceries, John headed back towards the front door.

“Hey, where you going?” she nearly sang in question.

“Oh, I was just gonna wait for you outside. You said you just needed to freshen your makeup or somethin’, right?”

“Oh yeah, but what’s the rush?! Have a seat! Make yourself comfortable! Can I get you a drink? Some water? A Coke? Some whiskey or somethin’?”

“No, no, I’m… I’m alright,” he replied as he stood awkwardly in the foyer, keeping his arms tightly together and head still. His eyes followed her up the stairs as his hand lay on the same coat pocket.

As John anxiously waited downstairs, Recita stared in her large bedroom mirror, lightly blotting red blush on her cheeks before applying a new coat of fresh black mascara.

She then puckered her lips and freshened her lipstick.

Once the fresh bright red was fully in place, she shone her bright, infectious smile.

“John?” She called out while still staring back at herself. “You still there?”

“Uhh yeah,” he called back up. “You almost ready?”

“I am,” she said with her smile its biggest and brightest yet.

Recita then pranced over to her dresser and reached deep behind.

When she pulled back her arm, in her hand was a large butcher knife—the reflection of its sharp silver blade shimmering in her warm eyes.

After retrieving her black lace scarf from her closet, she carefully wrapped the knife and then tucked it in her purse.

“I’m a-comin’!” she shouted as she turned and headed back towards the stairs.