Free As Close as Sisters by Colleen Faulkner Page B

inched forward in the cart.
    “I guess it depends. On whether or not I can get off work.” She picked up a package of shredded mozzarella. “You put the word organic on something, and it’s fifty percent more expensive.” She dropped it into her basket. She’d be making baked ziti. She always made baked ziti. “I guess it also depends on what’s going on with the lawsuit. The lawyer says we’re looking at December. If anything comes of it.”
    So she did want to talk about it. I spotted Lilly crisscrossing in front of us. She was headed our way, but clearly on a mission, sunglasses perched on her head, her grocery list in her hand. I don’t know if she even saw us.
    “Any word on the status of the suit?” I asked Janine.
    She lifted her shoulder. Let it fall.
    At the end of the aisle, I maneuvered the cart around a stack of packages of natural toilet paper and started down the next aisle. Was there un natural toilet paper?
    “You think it will actually go to court?” I asked.
    She scowled. “Doubt it. Female perp who filed against me has a rap sheet. Her boyfriend, too. Both for assault, among other things. And this wasn’t his first tussle with cops. Resisting arrest charges were dropped on a previous case, but my lawyer’s got a private investigator on it. I’m not worried.”
    I stopped and studied a shelf of beans: kidney, garbanzo, black, cannellini. I had no idea why. Beans weren’t on my list. What I needed was corn chips, to go with my guac. “I’m sure it will all be fine,” I said.
    She stood beside me, hands hanging awkwardly at her sides. She stared at the beans. “You read what happened, I guess. Saw the news.”
    I reached for a can of pintos. “I did.”
    “I didn’t shove her, Mack. I barely touched her. The baby daddy grabbed me, and he was the one who knocked her down. All three of us went down. He was big and I was—” Her voice caught in her throat.
    I looked up at her, the stupid beans still my hand. A female voice came over the loudspeaker advertising a sale on steamed crabs seasoned with Old Bay. Three dollars each, but just for the next fifteen minutes.
    Janine’s gaze was distant, as if she were watching the incident in question. Watching herself. I found myself holding my breath.
    “I was pretty scared. There were only two of us. My partner and me. We had backup coming, but—” She stopped and started again, still not looking at me. This time under her breath. “I didn’t touch the pregnant woman. I didn’t touch her even though the bitch put her hands on me.”
    The article I had read said the whole incident had been recorded on a cell phone. The newspaper had implied that the video would prove that Senior Corporal McCollister was guilty of the charges filed against her.
    “Was there really a video?” I asked.
    She nodded. “A guy in the crowd took it right before he took a swing at one of our troopers who was barely out of a training bra.” She took the can of beans from my hand and set them on the shelf.
    She met my gaze, and I ached for the pain I saw in her eyes.
    “I didn’t do it, Mack. I’m not my father.”
    “I know you’re not,” I said, wishing there was something else I could say. Something better.
    We were both quiet for a second. I heard the sounds of customers in the store, of life going on around us. Continuing without us, which made me feel tiny and insignificant.
    “So what else do you need?” She walked away. “I’m going to get some chips to snack on down on the beach. And some flavored creamer. I like the fake shit. I’ll probably have to go to Wawa.”
    I just sat there, watching her walk away. She was pretty, though she’d never thought so. Not model pretty like Aurora or exotic pretty like Lilly, but girl-next-door pretty. I liked her shiny brown hair longer. She never wore makeup, but she had the kind of face that didn’t need it to define her features. She had gorgeous hazel eyes, nice brows, high cheekbones, and suntanned