Falling For Them Volume 2: Reverse Harem Collection

by Nikki Bolvair

  Graduation

  Road Trip

  Dancing

  Conversations

  Party

  Camping

  Confessions

  Shopping

  Stale air hits my face. Shaking my head to avoid the odor wafting on the wind does no good. Over the last year, it only seems to be getting worse; even the sky has a murky tint to it. Grays and greens replaced the blues and whites of my childhood skies, representing the permanent damage done by our care of the world.

  “Snap out of it! We have a lot to do tonight. We won’t have time for this tomorrow. This is your party we’re planning. You only graduate from high school once.” My mother beams at me. Even though she gives me a hard time, she brags about my achievements, including the fact that I’ll be headed to an Ivy League school in the fall.

  “Sorry, Mom! The smell of rot has gotten worse. Maybe I should major in environmental sciences and not biology. I’ll choke to death before I can ever operate on my first person.” Putting my hand over my chest, I fake a choke and roll my eyes back.

  “Or maybe you should go to drama school. Come on Bailey, we need to figure out food for the party. We should have done this before we left the house, or better, a week or more ago when we had time to really plan.” My mom steps away from the old sedan and grabs a grocery cart from the cart corral.

  The parking lot spans the length of the building, but only a few cars occupy the spaces. Just over five years ago, the governments of the world stopped all motorized vehicle production. If you owned a vehicle, you could continue to use and maintain it, but no new cars were up for sale. Ours was already old when the decree came down, but my dad, with the help of my friend and neighbor, Kace, has kept it in running order.

  “Let’s see what they have available, today. We talked about how hard it would be to plan since the selection seems to change each time we walk through the doors, sometimes as we are walking through the doors.” I give my mom a sideways look at we enter the supermarket.

  “Things will get better. Just wait.”

  I follow her toward the produce section. She knows me so well. Even though I’ll eat meat, I lean toward vegetables. My heart drops as we walk through the section. Almost every bin is empty, and what’s left is bruised or rotten.

  “Don’t look like that. We’ll find something. We can work with the bruised items and make something amazing.” Mom pats my cheek before tearing off a bag for potatoes.

  “I’m not worried about the bruising. I’m worried that we’re going to take all this food just for a party. We shouldn’t do that. Let’s just make a cake.” Frequently, the news broadcasts pictures of starving families. The food shortage worsens by the day.

  “There are expectations that have to be met, Bailey. Your father is up for a promotion. We are going to use this party to show that we’re resourceful and creative. Stop thinking about yourself.” Her brow knits together as she belittles me. Her moods bounce so quickly from happy to strict I’m never sure which one I’ll encounter.

  “Sorry, Mom.” I’m not, but there’s no point in arguing. Picking my battles has become more important with her ongoing deterioration in attitude. I focus back on the selections which is mostly root vegetables and some squashes. “What about those twice baked potato puffs you make? Those are easy to make, but look fancy when you put them in the cake decorator thing to swirl them. They’re also easy to decorate with different toppings. Are you trying just for finger foods?”

  “Please stop talking. I just need to look. I’ll let you know what I come up with. Why don’t you go see what they have available in the meat department?” She waves her hand in the direction of the butcher and goes back to selecting potatoes.

  Walking away, I search down the aisles for anyone I recognize. The shelves are as bare as the store. I wander around, finding nothing of interest, before stopping in front of the seafood case. Knowing my mother will want something expensive, I scan the selection, not liking any of it. Wild caught hasn’t been around since I was small. My grandpa used to tell me stories about fishing in a pond near his house, but contaminates now pollute all the water near us. There probably aren’t many places left with clean, fresh water.

  “Bailey!” My name jerks my attention to the other side of the counter.

  “Hi, Michael. I didn’t realize you worked here.” He and I have attended school together since middle school.

  “Are you by yourself? I’m used to seeing you with the others.”

  I assume he means Kace, Ryker, and Devon. One or more of them are normally with me. “I’m with my mom. We’re grabbing items for my graduation party on Sunday.”

  “Really? People still do that?” Hurt crosses his face, but he quickly recovers.

  “Unfortunately! Do you want to join us? I wasn’t in charge of the invitations, so I don’t know who will be there.” Since this event is more social than congratulatory, my mom will set me in the middle of her group of friends so they can chat at me. If I invite enough people, my hopes are that she sends us outside to entertain ourselves.

  “Thanks, but I can’t. I’m working. Dad and Jacob were sent to work outside St. Louis about nine months ago. We were warned that it would be hard to contact them, but we haven’t heard anything in two months.” His hands grip the countertop, causing his knuckles to turn white. “Their money stopped coming in last month, so my mom is panicking. I’m trying to pick up all the shifts I can.”

  “I’m so sorry that is happening. Ryker and Devon are getting ready to head out soon. They warned me about the limited contact, too. Maybe we can ask them to check on your family.” The longshot may make Michael feel better.

  “Where are they headed?” Hope laces through his voice.

  “They haven’t received their assignments yet. They find out on Monday. I’ll talk to them, though. If the party ends early enough, we can try to stop by.” Light returns to his eyes as he loosens his grip from the counter. I’m not sure why I originally agreed to do anything, but even a small hope seems enough to make his day.

  I rescan the meat selection, and still nothing looks appetizing. “Do you have any recommendations?”

  “We’ve been going through food quickly. You’re lucky you came in when you did because the shipment was three hours early. This place will have a line soon, and everything will be gone.” Michael bends down to look through the glass case from his side. “Is there anything special that you’re looking for?”

  “We’ll take all of it.” I jump when my mother speaks.

  “Mom, we can’t do that.” My back hits the counter as I throw my arms out to either side, blocking the case from my mom’s view. “Others are counting on this food. We just got lucky that we showed up when we did.”

  She snickers. “Dear, do you really think it’s a coincidence that the truck showed up early?”

  My mouth pops open. What is she thinking? “I’m not sure how you did that, but we can’t buy all this and leave nothing for the rest of the community just so I can have a decent graduation party.”

  “I know you’re smarter than this. I already explained to you that this party is about your father’s networking and our family standing out. I did not raise you to be one of those simpering bleed hearts that want to keep giving back.” She grabs my left hand and moves it out of her view. “We gave everything back, and people kept taking, now look where we are.”

  “You’re right, you didn’t raise me that way. You raised me to be a smart, independent thinker, and I think this is wrong.” Her glare burns through me. She’s never been violent before, but I’m not sure she wouldn’t be now.

  Michael saves our exchange from getting worse. “Umm, I’ll need to speak with my manager before I can sell you everything in the case.”

  “There are no signs limiting the amount of food being purchased.” Her ire shifts to Michael. “You’re just wasting my time.”

  “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I will need someone to help me with an order of
this size.”

  She waves him off before swinging back to me. “Don’t you ever speak to me in public that way again. Your father has big things going on that will save this family. I will not have you ruining it because you are too short-sighted to understand.” Her hand wraps around my bicep, dragging me away from the counter.

  My arms cross under my chest as I watch her look at the selection. With Michael gone to find the manager, no one is around to see the humiliation she put me through. I know, though. Things with her have gotten worse in the last few months, but her actions today top all of that.

  A line forms behind us, scaring me. What will happen once they realize no food will remain once my mother has completed her shopping? Scooting closer to the shopping basket, I focus on the items my mother picked out: potatoes, carrots, onions, a few vegetables I don’t recognize, and a ton of fruit, including grapes, cherries, and bananas.

  Turning around, my mom notices the women waiting behind us. “Dear, please go get us some cheese as well as sliced ham and turkey. Here is my order, you can just hand it to the person behind the counter.” Her sweet voice, an act for the gathering storm of women, masks the grip she has on my hand and the pointed stare coming from her eyes. To anyone looking, her tone and fake smile appear genuine.

  “Yes, Mom.” She squeezes my hand one last time before patting my shoulder and sending me to the deli.

  Meandering through the store, empty shelves line half the aisles. The manager could move to a smaller location one-third the size and still have room to spare. Yellow caution tape blocks off rows two and three which used to hold pet supplies and baby food. With the droughts that caused food shortages, the government banned all pets years ago. My grandma used to tell me stories of when she was little and had three dogs that all piled into bed with her to sleep. Since I couldn’t have any pets, she would make me stuffed animal dogs to keep me company at night.

  The Child Prohibition Act went into law shortly after I was born. Both males and females are given regular injections to suppress their hormones and halt any births not sanctioned by the government. In order to have a child, a couple registers with the Department of Family Services. To be eligible, their combined income has to meet minimum thresholds, they have to have been married for at least five years, and own a home. So many couples, today, don’t meet those requirements which leaves them childless. With the way things are going in the world, they’re better off.

  Putting an end to my depressive musings, I step up to the deli counter. A short, balding man greets me, “Afternoon, how may I help you today?”

  I hand him my list. “My mother would like this order filled.”

  Opening the folded paper, the man’s eyes widen. “Ma’am, are you sure this is what you want? This has to be a mistake.”

  Knowing my mother, she’s about to buy out all the deli products. “I didn’t look at the list, but I’m sure it’s accurate. My mother will be here shortly to pick it up.”

  “This will take almost everything we have. I need to call the manager.” He scrubs his hand over his bald head as he rereads the list.

  “The manager has already been called to the meat department to discuss my mother’s request there. You should be able to find them both to discuss this order.” Glancing around, there are no shoppers in this area. I wish I could call people over to buy what they need before we take everything.

  “I’ll be right back.” Muttering to himself, the man scurries off in the direction I came from.

  The bakery department resides next to the deli, so I head over there. I miss the smells of warm chocolate and vanilla floating around me. Once the highlight of my trip to the grocery, this section now stands as a stark reminder of another thing we’ve lost. Wheat crops failed three years in a row, leaving shortages in bakeries around the world.

  “This department is closed.” A tall, gray-haired woman informs me.

  “Oh, I know. I’m just waiting for the deli to fill my order. I thought I would come over here and remember all the sweet smells. The woman that used to work back there would give cookies to children that were behaving.” My mouth waters as I remember the soft chocolate filled cookies given to me on the sly since my mother didn’t approve of sweets.

  “That must have been Rosie. I haven’t seen her in a couple of years. I only work back here when an order has been placed. It’s rare to have one nowadays. People tend to buy the corn mixes and make their own baked goods.”

  My mother… “Is the order for Deaton?”

  “Yes. Is that you?” The woman heads to the large storage freezer behind the counter.

  “Wait. That’s my mother, but I don’t want to pick it up until she can see it. I was only instructed to bag up her deli order.” How much is she wasting on this party that’s no longer mine?

  “Sure. I’ll be here when you’re ready.” Her pleasant demeanor sours some now that she has to wait.

  Arguing and banging from behind me forces me to turn around. My mother quickly wheels her lopsided cart over to me. Three women follow her and shake their fists, purses, or a food item at her. With them talking over one another, I’m unable to make out their arguments, but I can guess it involves meat since her cart is now packed full.

  “Dear, please go get another cart so we can finish our shopping.” Mom’s voice drips with smugness.

  “No!” A short, blonde woman blocks my way. “This is ridiculous. You can’t take all the food in the store.”

  “You heard the manager. There are no rules from buying large quantities. Now, move out of my daughter’s way before I call the police and have them or the manager haul you out of this store.” My mother shifts her weight onto one hip and tilts her head.

  The woman steps closer to my mother, not quite able to get into my mom’s face because of the height difference, which includes my mother’s heels. “Go ahead and call them. I’m not moving. My family needs to eat, too.”

  Before things get too heated, the manager breaks things up. “Please, ladies. Let’s keep this civil. I’ve called another store, and they are bringing over some of their supply. They should be here in about three hours.”

  “Three hours?” the second woman in the group complains. “You’re going to let that rich bitch just get away with this? I’ve been shopping here for twenty years. My business is just as important as hers.”

  I slink back behind my mother’s cart, not wanting to be mixed up in this debate.

  “I can’t wait here that long. I have to go pick my son up. What’s he going to eat tonight?” The last woman advances on us. “Make her come back later and get the rest of her food.”

  The store manager steps between the woman and my mom. “I realize this in an inconvenience, but we have no rules on how much people buy. We’ll change that after today. If you’ll come with me, I’ll get your address and have something delivered to your home.”

  “Is she taking all the deli items, too? I’d like to wait and see if anything is left here.” The woman’s eyes move between glaring at my mother and staring longingly after her basket.

  “Please, I don’t want all of that. My daughter”—Mom grabs my arm and drags me forward—”already placed my order. Since the man decided to check with his manager, we now have to wait for him to finish.” She raises her eyebrows at the deli clerk, who scrambles to prepare her order.

  The woman crosses her arms. “I’ll wait.”

  Taking in a deep breath, the manager slinks away, calling back to the woman, “Find me once your deli order has been filled.”

  Tension stretches across the department as my mom waits for her order, and the line behind us grows, hoping there will be food left for them.

  I jump when my mother addresses me. “Didn’t I tell you to get us another basket?”

  “Yes, sorry. I’ll go get it now.” I scurry off toward the front of the story to grab another cart.

  On my way back, I notice how several of the women that were huddled around my mother have now joined togeth
er. Animated hands point in the direction of the meat department. Ducking my head, I rush back to the deli, hoping we can leave before anything else happens.

  “Took you long enough. You’re lucky he only just finished with the ham.” Mom moves several packages from the old cart to the new one. “I’m going to check on the cake. Listen for the turkey to be picked up.” She takes the new cart and heads to the bakery counter.

  Crossing my arms on the handle of our original cart, I drop my head down waiting for this nightmare to be over. My mom’s attitude has shifted in the last month, which seems to be stemming from some promotion my dad is getting. I hope the transition happens fast, so we can go back to normal.

  “Order for Deaton,” calls the deli clerk.

  I walk up to the counter and take three packages from him. They weight a ton. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll start on the next one, now. Same cut?”

  “Umm, yes.” I can’t believe she’s getting more meat, but whatever he did with this one should be all right for the next.

  The irate woman stands about five feet from me. Her eyes bore into my cart full of meat and vegetables. With my mother distracted, I place the turkey in the cart and grab the smallest meat package I can find. I glance one last time at my mom to make sure she isn’t looking before I walk over and hand the woman the package of ground lamb.

  “Please don’t tell my mom,” I plead before running back to my safe zone.

  Not long after the woman leaves with her prize, all of our deli orders have been given to us, and the cake rests in the bottom of the second cart. As we make our way to the check out, the group that I noticed earlier blocks our way.

  A stout, middle-aged woman addresses us, “I wouldn’t come back in here again if I were you, blondie.”

  “If I would have known you are the type of patron that this store caters to, I wouldn’t have shopped here to begin with. Now, get out of my way before I call the police and let them know you’re harassing me. Scum like you don’t deserve the food that hard working men and women sweat over.” My mother’s nose reaches for the ceiling as she snubs the group.