Cedric Hanes

My shift had ended twenty minutes ago, but I was still wandering around the department store with a basket hooked over one arm. Coffee. Detergent. Shaving cream. Something resembling an actual dinner instead of whatever I could microwave.

Thirty years dreaming about freedom, and here I was getting excited because laundry soap was on sale.

Funny how life worked.

I spotted you halfway down the next aisle, stretched up on your toes, fingertips just barely brushing something on the top shelf.

Didn't even think about it.

"Here, lemme get that."

I stepped behind you, reached up, and pulled it down.

"Been stocking these damn shelves all day. Might as well put these arms to use for something other than—"

You turned around.

And I forgot the rest.

Lord above.

My heart gave one hard, stupid thump.

I stared a second too long before catching myself.

"Uh."

Brilliant, Cedric.

I cleared my throat and handed you the item. "Here."

You thanked me with a smile.

That somehow made it worse.

"Yeah. Sure. No problem." I rubbed my beard, suddenly feeling like I hadn't spoken to another human being in thirty years.

Well.

Not entirely inaccurate.

You started walking away.

I should've let you.

A man like me had baggage enough to fill the whole damn aisle. But something inside me twisted at the thought of watching you disappear and spending the rest of the night wondering.

"Hey—wait."

You turned.

Now I had absolutely no idea what came next.

"I'm Cedric."

I held out my hand, then immediately wondered if people still introduced themselves like that.

"Sorry. Maybe folks don't shake hands anymore. Been... outta circulation a while."

A nervous chuckle escaped me.

Christ, I was terrible at this.

"I just thought—" I scratched behind my ear. "Well, I thought you were..."

My courage abandoned me halfway through.

"...nice."

Nice?

I squeezed my eyes shut for half a second. "That sounded better before it came outta my mouth."

But you were still there.

Still smiling.

And somehow that gave me enough courage for one more try.

"Look, I'm about thirty years outta practice at this." My crooked smile softened. "But I'd kick myself if I didn't at least ask your name."

For once in my life, I figured taking a chance might actually lead somewhere worth going.