Michigan Peaches

She knew that underneath the gradient red to yellow skin, the apple would be equally sweet and tart. Its heaviness told her it was perfectly ripe; the juice would run down her chin when she bit into it, just like when she was seven and snacking on apples she’d picked from her grandparents’ orchards. Alex set the apple down and picked up another. Lighter, with a small bruise that just cupped the pad of her thumb. It was tempting to press in and see how deep the bruise went, see if she could break the skin with just the force of her thumb, but she refrained and put it back.

           Jansen would never come here with her, at least not to go slowly, to breathe and think like this. He was all City and didn’t really care how the food got into his takeout containers as long as there was food. Whether or not he was here didn’t matter though. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him. She resumed her meditations with the peaches.

           Alex remembered the time she was six and thought peach fuzz tickled until she realized it was a wasp crawling from the back of the peach onto her hand. She froze, trying not to breathe, a little electric shock shooting up her arm when she was sure it was getting ready to sting, but it just flexed its wings and flew away. A little shock went through her now when the boy in the red polo said “Can I help you find something?” She hadn’t noticed him walk up beside her.

           “No, thank you, I’m just looking,” she smiled as she put the peach back. “But do you know where these peaches are from?”

           “Umm…I’m not usually in produce, but I can ask.”

           “No, that’s okay. Just curious.” She smiled again, in a way she hoped was a friendly goodbye. It must have been close enough, because he walked away with a glance over his shoulder and started unpacking oranges. Alex was a little surprised she was able to emit a passable smile after being so angry when she had walked in to the store.

           It had been almost four years since she’d moved to the city to work at the Chicago High School for Agricultural Sciences, hoping to try something new and help other kids learn to love growing and taking care of the land as much as she did, but she still felt uncomfortable almost everywhere but the school. She dated Cory and then Jansen, hoping that connecting with people from the city who could show her around would help. And she had genuinely liked them. Maybe. She thought Jansen had really liked her, until her mom called this morning.

           But really, how dare he? What kind of asshole breaks up with you when you’re asking him to take the train home with you because your grandpa just had a heart attack? She was willing to try living in the city and he couldn’t even visit the other side of the lake? What an immature…why was she holding a pineapple? Pineapples aren’t from Michigan. Pineapples aren’t Home. Alex put down the pineapple and drifted back towards the plums.

           Alex couldn’t remember how many times Grandpa had taken her for a walk in the orchards when she was upset as a kid. They would start walking, and the rhythm of the movement and the steadiness of his voice describing the trees, insects, and growing practices slowly smoothed out her anger. Eventually, they would reach the bench by the creek and she could finally talk about whatever she needed. As she held the plum, she realized she’d been looking for comfort and direction here in another person, when what she needed was a practice. Well, a practice better than finding comfort surrounded by fruit in the produce section of grocery stores. She needed movement and air, which were in short supply beyond walking up the stairs to her apartment.

           She checked her watch. 11:27. Three hours until her train left. She had plenty of time to get home and pack before catching the L into downtown. Maybe she was acclimating to the city after all; she at least knew how to navigate the public transportation in her area, even if it did make her nervous during the most crowded times of day.

           This time the voice at her shoulder had a Jewel Osco Manager badge on her black polo. “Excuse me, was it you who had the question about the peaches?” the manager asked with just enough of a smile to seem friendly, but with an assessing eye that Alex couldn’t miss checking out her purse. She’d stayed too long again.

           “Yes, I was just wondering where they came from. My grandpa used…my grandpa grows them. So I’m always a little curious,” she finished awkwardly. Usually starting an honest conversation worked with suspicious managers, but she didn’t think she could manage it today, and she realized this was her invitation to go.

           “Michigan,” the manager said briefly. “This time of year, most of our peaches and plums are from there. Anything else I can help with?”

           “No, thank you. That’s actually where I’m headed home to this afternoon. I’ll just buy a couple for the road,” She picked up one in each hand and pointedly carried them in plain sight to the first available cashier and opened her purse unnecessarily wide to get out her wallet. By the time she walked through the sliding automatic doors, the manager had disappeared. She turned towards her apartment and realized she was out of grocery stores within walking distance where she wouldn’t be watched now.

           Who was this Alex, anyway? Since when was she a little afraid of people, of being outside, of figuring things out on her own? She knew when. Moving to Chicago had been an experiment and something she was passionate about when she started. But now she thought about when Grandpa told her no, they couldn’t grow the mango she had tried at school. They didn’t live in the right climate and didn’t have the right type of soil. Different plants need different things to help them grow, he had explained.

           This time it was her ringtone that interrupted her thoughts. She opened up her purse to see “Mom” lighting up the screen and almost ended the call trying to grab it quickly enough, but managed to hit accept before it went to voicemail. “How is he?” she asked with a notable lack of small talk.

           “He’s doing really well, sweetie. The doctor just told us it wasn’t a severe one, and they don’t need to do a bypass. They are planning to put in a stent this afternoon, but we don’t have a time for that procedure yet. Grandma’s with him now, but I should be able to see him soon. Hopefully your train will get here in time for you to sneak in a quick visit before hours are over.”

           Alex’s throat tightened and she had a hard time squeezing out a “thanks, Mom.”

           “You holding up okay, Alex?”

           “I’m just ready to come home.”