Roasting garlic from the cooked meat section irritated my nose. I’d stopped at Haggen after lunch. Grocery shopping on a full stomach was supposed to be a good idea. Even the blueberries and strawberries, gleaming like naked jewels, evoked a slight revulsion. How was I going to buy avocadoes and parmesan and pumpkin seeds and all the other rich indigestible foods on my list? My pants felt tight—no room for more. Why had I eaten so much? My mouth tasted foul. Why hadn’t I told the waiter to hold the onions?
I squinted at my list. Sliced chicken for my kids’ sandwiches. Better head to the deli.
That’s when I saw her, Julia, my friend, old friend, ex-friend, leaning on the deli counter conversing with the Hispanic woman serving her. Her curly red hair was short and stylishly cut, her hips lean in loose jeans. She’d lost weight.