“I was at your house and I didn't see a cat.”
“He was hiding in the basement with Dad. Gilligan was supposed to be my cat, but the little traitor likes Dad better.”
“Gilligan?” Tamara giggled.
“Yes, I named him when I was a kid.”
“I think,” Tamara said, “we can get most of that stuff at the superstore on North Matthan Expressway.”
“That's where we're headed. You can write while I drive.”
“Write?” Tamara asked.
“Yeah, make a shopping list before we forget something.”
“Now you sound like my Dad,” Tamara laughed.
“Well, at least I don't sound like your mom.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” she asked, arching a brow.
“Well, if I begin to sound like a woman, please take me to the hospital, make that the mental hospital,” Hayden laughed.
“I'll make the list,” Tamara said, pulling a pen and paper from her purse, “as long as you promise not to forget the whisker on Monday morning.”
“I'm sure Gilligan is going to like me so much more after I rip out one of his whiskers,” Hayden laughed.
“Maybe then he'll be you're cat,” Tamara said, as they pulled into the parking lot of the superstore.
“Doubt it,” Hayden said, killing the engine, “How's the list coming?”
“Rocket ship, cat whisker, a package of candy apples, sour grape lip gloss, and three candy bars,” she read back to him, “Did I miss anything?”
“I don't think so,” Hayden said.
“No or you don't think so?”
“No, you didn't miss anything,” Hayden said, “Let's go.”
“So, you grab the candy bars and I'll grab the candy apples,” Tamara said as the store's automatic doors opened for them, “Then, we'll meet in toys.”
“Toys?” Hayden asked.
“Yeah, to find their blasted rocket ship.”
Tamara picked up a shopping basket and slide her arm into the handle as she pressed through the crowd. Candy apples were located in the produce section of the superstore, which was always packed with shoppers. Tamara navigated around happy couples, screaming children, and old ladies with carts full of produce and household goods. The candy apples were in the far back of the section, next to the bakery.
“Mommy!” a small child shrieked, “I want some more of them! Mommy!”
“No, Micheal, you're not getting any more of those, honey. They make you too hyper,” a woman said, gently taking the child's hand.
“No, they don't, Mommy!” he cried, “I want another candy apple! Mommy, please!”
“No, Micheal, sweetheart, let's go,” the woman sighed.
Tamara quickly snatched two packs of the candy apples, placed them in her shopping basket, and hurried away from the crying child, rubbing her ears. Once out of the grocery section of the store, the crowd thinned and Tamara was able to move quicker.
“Hey,” she said, walking up behind Hayden, playfully poking his sides.