Resolve, Part 2

He took three long strides to the counter top and began to reach for his grocery bag, but something caught his eye before he could begin to inventory its contents. To the right of the tidy sack lay his change and a hastily written post-it featuring Garfield:

Hey Babe,

I think I found everything you wanted. Here's your change. Don't forget to let me know if you'll be joining Phil and me for the Cruise.

Love,
Mom
xoxox

The Cruise. Rick snorted. His Mom and step-father had planned this Sunday to drive up to Cleveland and ride the Goodtime III, a cruise ship that toured Lake Erie. This particular cruise included the Captain's Choice buffet lunch and a narrated tour. He was sure the narrated tour would be as dry as the chicken served on the buffet. No thanks, he thought to himself. He enjoyed spending time with his parents, but two hours trapped on a "cruise" ship, learning about the salt mines and hearing propaganda about Lake Erie being "alive and well" was not his idea of fun. Besides, it would mean finding a date for the affair or, worse, being provided one.

He made a note to himself to cancel in the small notepad he kept in his shirt pocket. He would have to call Mom in the morning with his decision, lest she begin to hound him in earnest. Phil had won the tickets for the cruise in a raffle a month or two ago. They had originally planned to go with their neighbors, Frank and Patty, but Frank threw his back out golfing over the weekend. Patty didn't want him to fall on the gang plank and reinjure himself. Rick thanked his lucky stars that he would be able to cancel in plenty of time.

At last, he thought, tucking the notepad back into his shirt pocket, putting the change in his pocket and pitching the note; it was time for a treat. He moved in front of the bag and took a deep breath. The scent of the brown paper bag threw him momentarily back to his childhood. He recalled when he spent a rainy afternoon designing a costume for himself on the unlabled side of the bag. His Mom helped him cut arm holes in the sides and eye holes in the front. He could remember running around with that bag over his head, playing pirate.

He returned to the present as his stomach rumbled, remembering his booty in front of him. Grinning, he began to search the darkness of the bag's interior with his eyes. He made to move his hand into the bag, but paused, momentarily struck by the unfamiliar jumble of product and shadow. It was all angles and shadows and lights, full of possibilities. He typically did his own shopping and received no thrill when unpacking. However, his mother had an unreliable streak and a frustrating shortage of attention to detail. At the very least, he was in for a minor surprise and he was savoring the anticipation.

What's wrong with me? He wondered again to himself. Aggravated a bit that fancy kept getting the better of him. He hated to admit he enjoyed these little flights back in time. Oh well, he thought, What's wrong with a flight of fancy on treat night! Then he began seriously to unpack the items.