Chương 5: Food for Thought

The local Allison's was only a short drive away from the house, its convenience a large part of its status as their go-to grocer. Stepping inside, Olivia honestly wasn't sure what to expect. As far as she remembered, there hadn't been any massive revolution in how the places looked or operated in the last twenty years. Then again, she'd surely missed a whole boatload of small, incremental changes as they'd been made. Once they were all rolled back at once, perhaps the scene would end up just as unrecognizable.

The reality ended up falling somewhere in between. The layout of the place was nothing new. Parallel lines of densely-packed shelves filled the interior, their brightly-colored wares vying for the attention of passing shoppers. A collection of baked goods and other assorted treats loitered around the entrance like eager solicitors waiting to pounce on anyone foolish enough to enter on an empty stomach. All of that fell well within the realm of familiarity.

There was even a section of self-checkout kiosks at the far end of the store, though they definitely appeared more antiquated than the kind Olivia was used to. She honestly has assumed they'd come to prominence at a later point in time. Yet as they delved into the store itself—after falling victim to the cleverly placed trap by the entrance—more differences began to jump out at her. The actual contents of the shelves were far removed from what she recalled.

Plenty of the brands that were mainstays in the future had disappeared, replaced with others that had apparently failed to stand the test of time. The brands that were recognizable featured older logos and packaging ranging from nostalgic to downright whimsical. It was a far cry from the sleek, minimalistic style that had captured corporations in modern times. With a few notable exceptions. Huh. Olivia reached out for a bright red cereal box.

Its avian mascot was still instantly recognizable, but had the slightly flat appearance of a drawing as it stood beside a bowl of rainbow colored loops. It shouldn't have looked odd, plain sight as it was. But she'd honestly gotten used to seeing cereal dramatically exploding out of the bowl, surfing astride tidal waves of milk as a mascot eagerly dug in with the fervor of a starving man. Yeah. I guess it is kind of silly when put that way.

But it must work, seeing how pretty much every brand ends up pivoting to something like that….

"Livi?" Olivia looked over to find that her dad had stopped a little further down the aisle. He nodded to the box in her hand.

"You wanna grab that?"

"Oh! No, I'm fine." She returned the cereal to its place on the shelf with only a mild flush of embarrassment.

"Just looking."

"You sure? It's no big deal. If you think you wanna try it, you can. It's a box of cereal, not a car." Whoops. Guess I was looking at it for a bit longer than I realized. She shook her head.

"I'm ok, really. I was just reading."

"If you say so. Though you might have to give me a plot summary, if it's that riveting." Her dad chuckled, confirming that she'd been staring just a bit more intently than she'd hoped. They continued on, weaving up and down the aisles as Olivia continued to gawk. It wasn't so different that the whole store felt like a museum. But everywhere she looked were small reminders of the current era.

A smaller variety of produce, product placements for games that were considered classics by her standards, even the slight differences in font for the various signs around the store. It was all just slightly off.

"Oh! We should think about dinner tonight." He reminded her.

"I was thinking pizza? We can grab a couple while we're here, stick 'em in the oven when we get back." Olivia opened her mouth, then shut it again. That raised another important question. How exactly should she approach the matter of her diet? Did it fall into that gray area of things that could feasibly be tinkered with? Even if I don't change anything, then what are the odds that I actually match the meals I had the first time around? She frowned. … Not high, if I'm being honest.

That seems like one of those things that would fluctuate a ton. Heck, even the pancakes this morning probably were different from what I had the first time around. Some variation was likely unavoidable. However, that didn't necessarily mean that she should completely change course and eat like a health nut. Even if it meant the majority of their dinners would be of the boxed or frozen variety. Then again, it does seem like I recovered from the pancakes quicker than expected. And pizza…

How long has it been since I've had a real, honest to goodness pizza? That thought alone set her mouth watering. It was the final nudge that made her nod in agreement.

"Pizza sounds great to me."

"Right-o." Their cart rolled to a halt beside the row of refrigerated shelves, pulling open a clear door to expose the large square boxes of frozen pizza inside. The resulting blast of chill air raised goosebumps along Olivia's arms.

"The usual?" He was already crouching down as Olivia interjected.

"Actually… I was thinking I'd try a triple meat one this time. You know, just to change things up." The burly man paused with his arm extended, his eyes sliding over to her questioningly.

"Really? Since when do you like toppings on your pie?"

"I never said I liked them," Olivia defended herself.

"I just… wanted to try, that's all." It was a small concession. Not the healthiest one, necessarily, but one that would get a good amount more protein in her at least. Her dad's eyes widened a bit as she tried not to shift. She was on the verge of taking back her request when he shrugged.

"Well, who am I to say no? Try all you like. I'll get an extra cheese just in case, though." He turned back to the display, quickly plucking out the trio of slim boxes and depositing them into the cart. They lay atop the rapidly growing pile of other premade meals and snacks. Stuff she hadn't touched in years. Her dad had never been much for cooking, and Olivia herself hadn't taken it up until much later in life.

Making her own meals meant she had much better control over their contents, though honestly that was only secondary to her enjoyment of the process. Enjoyment that only grew once the kids were old enough to help. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Well, George, at least. Cash would live off of PB&J sandwiches and dino nuggets if he could. Her middle son's real name was Cassius, though people rarely ever called him that.

Cash was an admittedly unintended nickname that both her and Jason had somehow managed to overlook when picking it. But after a bit of initial dismay at the realization, she found that it did have a nice ring to it. Her smile flickered at the reminder of her kids. Of George's boundless energy, Cash's book full of crayon drawings, of Hazel's scrunched up little face… I can't. Not here. Not now. Shaking her head, Olivia cast her gaze about, desperate for a distraction.

Anything was better than letting herself be stuck in her head right now. An older couple caught her attention. They stood before the shelves or refrigerated chicken, bickering back and forth. Olivia focused on listening in as she shoved the less than pleasant thoughts to the back of her mind.

"... Can't believe they don't have it," the silver-haired woman muttered.

"I swear I've seen it here before…" The man gave a tired sigh.

"Do you really need the chicken to be ground up? Can't you just grind it up yourself?"

"It's easier this way."

"Easier," The man scoffed.

"What's the point of even having all those fancy doodads if you're not going to use them, miss gadget queen?"

"I do use them. I just don't like having to clean a bunch of raw meat out of them."

"Or garlic. Or carrots. Or oily foods. Or damn near anything else…"

"Pardon me," Olivia stepped forward, interrupting the brewing argument—though she'd sensed no real heat from either side. Both the man and the woman turned to look at her with surprise as she pointed toward a nearby display.

"If you're looking for the ground chicken, I think it's over there. They put it with the ground beef instead of the other chicken products, for some reason." The man looked a little put off by her interruption, but the woman hobbled over in the direction she'd indicated. Her face lit up.

"Ah! So they did! I told you they had it, Harold!" Her prize in hand, the woman triumphantly returned to her husband's side and regarded Olivia with a wide smile.

"Thank you, dearie. Why, you've saved my dinner plans!"

"No need to be so dramatic…" Olivia returned the smile, ignoring the husband's comment.

"Of course. Have a wonderful evening, ma'am." Bidding the couple farewell, Olivia turned back to find her dad looking at her with eyebrows raised. She cocked her head.

"What?"

"Nothing." A hint of pride touched his expression as he hid a faint smile.

"Just… you're full of surprises today, that's all." Olivia stiffened. … Shoot. That was out of character, too, wasn't it? The issue wasn't that she'd helped the couple. No, it was that she'd even spoken to them in the first place. The old Olivia would have been mortified at the very prospect, even if doing so would have allowed her to do a bit of good. The realization brought a blush to her cheeks. The pizza was one thing, but this too? Was she even trying? Obviously I'm not trying hard enough.

I have to take this seriously. But… do I even remember how to act? With a slight grimace, Olivia made a conscious effort to correct things. Her shoulders rounded slightly as she hunched into herself, trying to make herself seem smaller. It felt silly, like she was an inexperienced actor playing an overly exaggerated role. But it was probably closer to reality than whatever she'd been doing. Her dad's eyebrows knit together in sudden concern.

"I didn't mean it was a bad thing," he hurriedly assured her.

"I think it's great, really. I just wasn't expecting it, that's all." Olivia nodded, but maintained her silence. Her dad grimaced. He opened his mouth, clearly looking as though he wanted to say more. Then, deflating slightly, he sighed and let it go. The sight sent a pang of guilt through Olivia as their cart resumed its movement. She wanted nothing more than to reassure him, to explain that it wasn't his fault she'd retreated back into her shell like a frightened turtle.

But then, that would defeat the whole purpose, wouldn't it? I need to get better at acting like my old self. Otherwise, I won't stand a chance. Thankfully, she'd be starting high school soon, a tumultuous transition that would undoubtedly serve to cover most of her flubs. The majority of her new classmates would be strangers, after all. But that didn't mean she could get away with half-assing it, especially not around her dad. He knew her too well. I guess that means his opinion is even more valuable, then.

If I manage to mimic my old self enough that he's satisfied, then that's a good sign. Until, of course, I reach a point where I'm supposed to be changing and maturing. Then… Olivia couldn't help but let out a sigh of her own. This whole endeavor was already proving far more difficult than she'd feared. But it couldn't be helped.

Their cart quickly filled, and before long Olivia and her dad were escorting the rickety metal contraption to the car. It had been so tempting to sneak a few cuts of meat into their selections, especially after she'd seen the rock-bottom prices, but Olivia had managed to restrain herself. Though she had nudged her choices for lunch food toward something a little easier on her system. She didn't entirely remember what kind of stuff she used to pack anyway, so hopefully it would be ok.

In no time at all they were back at the house. Her dad pulled two of the pizzas out of the bags cluttering the trunk.

"I'll go get these started. You mind getting some of this stuff inside?"

"Wow. You really are hungry," she teased, already threading her arms through the thin plastic handles.

"What gave it away? The fact that you couldn't hear the radio over my stomach growling?"

"It was more the fact that you practiced pounced on those sugar cookies by the entrance, a nd then grabbed the ones on the clearance rack, too."

"It was a good deal! Besides, someone has to eat them before they go bad." Olivia shook her head, smiling as she hefted the bags. It was… more of a struggle than expected. Dang. Was I really this weak? She hobbled inside, stubbornly refusing to give up and lighten her load. Though she did take her current strength into account for future trips. The pizzas made their way into the oven, the tantalizing smell of baking bread made her mouth water despite herself.

Her dad worked to help her unpack and stow their haul away. After what felt like an age, the timer dinged to herald an end to their waiting. Her dad straightened from the pantry.

"Welp! That's my cue. Good thing, too. I was about to start busting into those cookies." He opened the oven to reveal two large disks of cheesy goodness, one plain and the other studded irregularly with chunks of meat. But just as her dad pulled the pizzas out, Olivia heard the garage door open. She looked toward the hall. The door opened just a crack before a sleek black heel kicked it the rest of the way open.

"Honey, I'm home!"