Sunday at the Farmer’s Market

Leaves rustled beneath Sarah’s feet as she hurriedly closed her car door and threw her woven shopping bag over her shoulder. The sun beamed down and the smell of fresh apples, sea salt caramels and incense grazed her nostrils. The Oakland Farmer’s market had a grayish blue tint to it from her oversized cat eye sunglasses, that get stuck way too often when pushed into her wavy honey gold hair. 

Sunday was market day for Sarah. Something that started out as a fun adult routine that feels like a 20 something’s rite of passage has now become a mundane chore that Sarah feels guilt if she sleeps in past it. Who’s going to buy a bundle of kale to replace the rotten one in her fridge from last week if not Sarah?

So she skips along, locking the car from her fob without looking back.  Today feels different. Something was lingering between the Granny Smiths and salted sandalwood; something she couldn’t but her finger on. This Sunday didn’t feel as mundane, it felt fresh. 

Kale. Oranges. Cinnamon sticks for the simmer pot I pinned on Pinterest. A slice of the blueberry lemon cheesecake from the delightful little old lady that I missed out on last week. Man I hope she made one this week. Is calling her a delightful little old lady offensive? I mean, I want to become a delightful little old lady… especially one that can make a cheesecake someone thinks about for a week straight.. OH. Eggs. Can’t forget eggs. Okay so Oranges. Eggs. Cinnamon? Yes cinnamon—

Sarah snapped back to reality as she approached the entrance and was greeted by a mop with four legs. She bent down to pet this mop and was met with a few dozen slobbery kisses. 

Continuing down the cobble stoned way she waved as she passed different vendors. Sharing a smile with the fiber artists, commenting on their wares and wonderful color way choices. The sun still beaming down, it was warm but not hot. There seemed to be no breeze but Sarah was comfortable. I feel light. 

Sarah’s bag was progressively getting heavier as she made her way through the beeswax candles, freshly baked bread and vegetables. Finally she arrived to the delightful woman, and to her own delight the only dish the pleasant lady had made was her blueberry lemon cheesecake. 14 of them to be exact. 

“What a beautiful day it is today!” Sarah greeted the old lady, who was wearing a name tag that Sarah couldn’t quite figure out. 

“Oh dear isn’t it! It’s the start of a fresh new week. You don’t get these days back,” smirked the little old lady “it says Frances by the way dear. That’s me, Frances but you can call me Frannie if you’d like.” 

Fresh.. Frances? How did she.. I must be squinting again. I should really get prescription sunglasses, sometimes aesthetic over function can just be—

“Dear?” Frannie lifted an eyebrow of concern, her eyes twinkled. Sarah had gotten lost in her thoughts again. 

“HI! Yes, Frances, I-I mean Frannie, I would like to call you that. I was just taken a back by the number of cheesecakes here, quite the lot!” Sarah recovered. 

“Oh yes, sometimes I just get to going and instead of doubling a recipe.. I, well, I double it by 7.” chuckled Frannie, her long silvered calico hair seemed to vibrate on her head as she talked. 

“Can I buy them all?” Sarah’s cheeks flushed and her body was warmer than the sun. Buy them all?!? Did I just say that… buy them ALL. Why did I say that.. what can I possibly—

“Why yes dear! They’re yours.” exclaimed Frannie as she swiftly packaged 14 blueberry lemon cheesecakes. “That’ll be 20 dollars.”

Sarah handed her Andrew Jackson as if she was possessed. A smile never left her face, internally she was panicking. How am I going to carry these? I haven’t even bought my kale yet. I guess I can make multiple trips back to the car. How did this even happ— did she say 20 dollars?

Before Sarah could divulge her strategy for claiming her cheesecakes, from seemingly nowhere a man appears from behind Frannie pushing a dolly, with all 14 of Sarah’s freshly obtained blueberry lemon cheesecakes. 

“This is my friend, James. He can take these to your car for you, don’t worry if you’re not done shopping. He’ll follow you around and figure it out.” The twinkle in her familiar eyes never left. “I’m going to pack up now dear. Enjoy your time here. You blink it’s gone. You can reimagine it, but rarely can you relive it.” 

This sentiment left Sarah feeling a little uneasy. The air around her changed. Suddenly, without being able to greet her freshly assigned acquaintance, dark clouds rolled over the beaming sun as large lukewarm rain drops began to fall. James grabbed Sarah by the elbow, gently but briskly leading her under a large maple tree to take cover. 

“The cheesecakes!” yelled Sarah. “They’re going to get all wet.. Oh well, kind of a shame but what was I going to do with 14 cheesecakes? I’m sure a few will survive… hopefully at least one slice. I mean I have been thinking about the them for a whole— oh man. I’ve gone lost again but this time out loud.” Sarah collected her self and finally looked at this 6 foot dark featured man who was smiling at her. His eyes felt other worldly yet native to Sarah as they peered into her’s. 

“I quite like when you get lost. I feel like I could listen to you get lost for the rest of my life.” said James. His voice echoed through Sarah, tingling each receptor in her ear drums.

“I feel like you have.” blurted Sarah. She hadn’t even realized, not only was James still holding her elbow but he had rested his other hand on the low of her back. 

James. 

Without another word, the two held a conversation with their eyes that spanned a lifetime of memories. 

An ice cream date that ended in a first kiss. A proposal on Christmas Eve in front of her mother. Walking hand in hand through a stream of confetti thrown by their closest loved ones. A fight in the living room. A slow dance in the kitchen. A million and ten laughs over the same thing. Newborn babies cries. First steps. First bike. College graduation. A tearful goodbye for ones that leave too soon. A tearful hello to ones that enter this world. Holding hands and figuring it out. 

“James.” Sarah whispered as she touched his jaw line. Every crevice of his face felt like a well known trail on a map she’d never forget. 

“Sarah. You can do it. Enjoy the life we made, we’ll come back together again.” Sarah felt chills as James pulled her in. He tucked a tuft of hair behind her ear and he held her head on his chest. 

“I don’t want to. It’s always been you and me. Every second from that day that you sheltered me from the rain storm. It’s been you and me. Nothing happened before that, how can anything happen after? It’s selfish I know. We lived a lifetime together but I want more James. You can’t leave me, I wanted more.” Tears streamed down Sarah’s face. She gasped for air between every sentences while clutching James as she never had before. The smell of smoky sandalwood filled her senses.

“I wanted more too. And there is more. We are together in this life just as we have been in the one before and will be in the one after. It’ll be fresh without exception, yet well seasoned.” 

Sarah looked up at James, “I know.”

James pulled Sarahs chin upwards and kissed her. 

The market began to swirl around them as they lost themselves in one another. Visions of their life popped through the marbled vendor’s stalls. 

Birthday candles being blown out. A new mop-like puppy kissing the kids. Blueberry lemon pie sitting in the windowsill. A basket of yarn next to a news paper and coffee cup. Graduation caps being thrown. Camera flashes. Babies crying. Kale from the market rotting in the fridge as the light illuminates the laminate dance floor. Cheering from the bleachers. Admiring the stars. Holding hands in the movie theatre. Splitting a Twix. Yelling in the rain. Long nights with endless conversation. The clink of glasses. 

Then the sun came out. Sarah and James stepped out of the shade of the maple. 

“Love eternal.” James said as he looked into the sun.

Sarah glanced up and immediately started blinking the light away. When she opened her eyes she saw a ceiling. In a jolt Sarah shot up in bed, her long silvery calico hair brushed along her arm.