Vic glanced at Matt, who shrugged. “You make an old babcia happy,” Mrs. K said. “You both visit. Eat. You, Marty, you need more meat on your bones.” To Vic, she confided in a loud whisper, “He’s too thin.”
“He’s a swimmer,” Vic told her, as if that explained it.
Behind Mrs. K, someone started, “Excuse me—”
“Always pushing me out of the way!” Mrs. K whirled around, one small fist already shaking. “Głupia zasranà, can’t an old woman shop in peace in this place?”
With a grimace, Matt caught the end of Vic’s cart and pulled his lover a little farther down the aisle in an effort to avoid conflict. At the end of the aisle, Mrs. K called out to them, “See you at six!”
* * * *
Actually, they saw her a lot sooner—she pushed her cart past them as they stood in the self-checkout lane. “I don’t
