Claire could not fathom how a meeting about cooperation for the sake of the baby had spiraled into a one-hour debate on a degree in witchcraft! Somehow, Apollo and his mother were caught up in it. Wilder, the main speaker was very enthusiastic, going so far as to pull out pictures of Lemon on her graduation day.
"Wait, her real name is Lemon Clinton?!" Mrs. Ashford clutched her pearls.
Wilder shook her head, sighing like a tired parent. "I tried to convince Delia to give her daughter a sensible name. But she said her mother-in-law’s favorite fruit is a lemon, and this would somehow make her daughter the favorite grandchild in the Clinton family.
"Did it work?" Mrs. Ashford asked curiously.
Wilder snorted. "Of course not. The more she tries to please her mother-in-law, the more the woman dislikes her. I hope you will not be cold to my Claire if she marries into your family."
Mrs. Ashford frantically waved her hands. "No...no..no. The Ashford family is not messy like that. When Claire marries in, I will treat her like my own daughter. If you don’t trust me, just look at how I treat my other daughters-in-law. You will not get any complaints."
Claire’s jaw dropped. Why were they back to the subject of marriage? She rose, yawning loudly. "Grandma, I have errands to run."
Before her grandmother could reply, she escaped the house. Apollo followed after her, almost stepping on Paddy’s tail. The dog was sleeping in the doorway, basking in the afternoon sun.
"Claire, wait." Apollo called out.
Claire did not wait--at least, not until she reached her car. She turned around and faced her nervous rival. "I don’t want to talk about the future right now, Apollo. I have some things to buy. I need to look for a shop because I have a business to get off the ground."
Suddenly, Apollo backed away, and Claire thought that was it. But he opened the car door and climbed into the driver’s seat.
Claire’s face when witnessing this, had a resemblance to that of someone who had swallowed a fly. "What do you think you are doing?"
"Get in." He said calmly.
His voice had an authoritative quality that rubbed her the wrong way.
"Of course I am getting in, this is my damn car!" she snapped. "You should get out."
Apollo replied in the same calm voice. "Claire, you are pregnant and just the other day, you were in the hospital because of blood sugar problems. This is not me trying to take charge of your life in my twenty-thousand-dollar shoes. It’s me worrying about the health of the mother of my child. Just think of me as your chauffeur for the day. I am sure you will get a kick out of ordering me around."
Claire’s eyes lowered to his shiny custom shoes. "I said nothing about your shoes."
Apollo would have laughed in her face if he wanted. She had looked at his shoes at least eleven times since he arrived. Knowing Claire Dane, she had been gearing up to say something smart about them. He had beaten her to the punch.
He was sure she was hissing like an angry cat on the inside.
With a groan, Claire walked around the car and settled in a corner backseat far away from the driver’s seat. "Do not mistake this for surrender," she said sharply, slamming the door shut. "I am temporarily choosing to take a step back."
Apollo looked back, eyeing her with curiosity. "Must you sit all the way there? I don’t bite, Claire."
"The nips and marks you left on my body after our hellish night together say otherwise," she replied.
His lips curved up with a satisfied smirk. "I am not the only one who left marks on the body. My chest and back looked like they had been attacked by a wild cat the morning after. And there was nothing hellish about our night together, you enjoyed yourself."
In what Claire thought of as a childish move, Apollo made a few moans to mimic the sounds she had made that night.
Claire covered her ears. "I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you."
Laughing softly, Apollo started the car. "Where are we going?"
"Graves supermarket." She replied, dropping her hands.
There was silence in the car for a while. He said nothing, and neither did she. It was not for lack of things to talk about, but awareness that their conversations rarely ended peacefully. Neither Apollo nor Claire had the energy for a verbal sparring.
Claire tilted her head against the window, pretending to sleep through the journey. Soft rock music filled the car. She had an opinion on Apollo’s taste, but Claire did not share it. She was just glad that he had kept the volume low--his version of courtesy. Claire kept her eyes closed, listening to the faint drumbeat, waiting for the moment when they would arrive at the supermarket.
At Graves supermarket, Claire grabbed a cart and headed straight for the bulk aisle. Apollo trailed behind, hands in his pockets, watching her pile supplies like she was preparing for a small siege.
She loaded 23 kilograms of rice. The same amount of flour, twenty loaves of bread, two gallons of cooking oil and a box of instant noodles.
Apollo raised an eyebrow as she added canned beans, sugar, and salt. "You planning to start a new restaurant?"
Claire ignored him, pushing the heavy cart toward checkout. Her mind was already on the city of Driswen. This food was a drop in the ocean compared to what they needed. Claire wondered if the time was now to dip into the education fund and open a shop in that world.
The gold from there could be brought back to the real world and exchanged for money. Instead of having money sitting in an account without growing, it was best to invest and grow it.
This made her think of her boat. It was nice, but it couldn’t fit one hundred bags of rice weighing 120 pounds each. The sooner she bought herself a big ship, the better.
"Claire," Apollo nudged her. "Why are you buying so much food? Who the hell are you feeding?"
"The poor," she answered. They were the poor of another world, but poor, nonetheless. His curiosity had her thinking about the townspeople. If she kept purchasing food like this every day, sooner or later, they would have the same questions as Apollo. It seemed like she would have to operate more carefully, going forward.
When she thought of all the places that needed funds to operate, Claire sighed sadly. Her meager savings were not enough. She was feeling very much like one of the poor in that moment. Perhaps it was why she found Apollo’s shiny shoes so annoying. So much so that she "accidentally" stepped on them.