J X K

Seen

Kim's POV

"What's this week's theme?" I ask, pushing the cart behind my dad.

"I'm not sure yet. It's a tie between citrus or all pink food. You and your mom could use some more vitamin C. Flu season is coming up. I could roast a small turkey dinner with an orange rub-marinade, with a tangerine and walnut salad, also maybe bake some orange and cranberry scones. But then I was thinking we could eat all pink foods. Wouldn't that be fun?

"I defiantly think pink has more options than blue foods. We ate too many blueberries that week." I beam. Dad lives vicariously through our meal plans, experimenting with menus he's dreamed of testing out in cooking school if he got to go. Unfortunately his job at the Lodge, the local diner, is mostly making pancakes and chicken fingers all day.

My dad is the market's best customer. We don't have supermarket giants all the way out here on the rez. More of like a farmers markets with locals whose families have been farming in La Push for generations. The vendors who've known me since I came home from the hospital have grandparents who feed my grandparents and so on. The best part being we don't get sold those over priced artisanal trendy gimmicks, but get fresh organic produce, sometimes a head of cabbage is bigger than a small pet dog. There is a small connivence store close to the shore that sells just normal brand name snacks, but it's slightly more expensive than a bag of chips should be.

"Watermelon, radishes, peaches, cranberries, strawberries, raspberries, jello, pomegranates, grapefruit, shrimp, salmon—" I see the lightbulb pop on in his mind. "How about beet pickled delved eggs, a bed of steamed rhubarb, and pink macaroni salad?!"

"What makes the macaroni pink?" Sometimes his menus are incredible, then sometimes they're undeniably bad ideas. Growing up, I skipped the picky eater and dinosaur nuggets phase completely. Although, I did have the coolest boxed lunches in the cafeteria.

"More beets."

"Too many beets." I wince.

"Now oranges feels too boring." He sighs, balling up his list.

"Crab is pink and not boring." I suggest, happy to see my dad light up again.

"I could call Harry Clearwater and see what he caught! I could cook paella and shrimp tacos and—"

"Penne vodka is also pink. You make a great penne vodka." I mange to hint that in before he dreams too big again. If we don't stop him while he's ahead he'll end up making his own bubblegum or something.

"KIM!" Just as we round the corner, both my dad and I nearly jump back down the aisle. Emily Clearwater practically jumps to hug me. Sam Uley hangs back behind her, manning three shopping carts overbrimming with food. His massive stature is like a skyscraper, filling up the entire market despite being very still. Given how tall he is I should have seen them earlier on.

"Oh, hi," I manage a wobbly smile, but hoping I don't look as confused as I feel. La Push is a small town, and even though everyone here knows everybody, I've barely spoken to Emily Clearwater. I don't know why she's acting like we're good friends all of sudden.

"It's so good to see you!" She beams a smile so bright I can't help but grin back in thanks.

"Thank you Emily, hi Sam," My dad nods at each, clapping a hand over my shoulder.