Grace stood in the parlor, holding three pieces of candy in her hand. She was studying the candy dish like a retirement portfolio. She rooted around. Compared the pieces in the dish to what was in her hand. Made a few swaps. Finally, she was satisfied with her choices.
Hank and Beau watched while they fixed their morning coffee.
“What’s she doing?” Hank asked.
“Diversifying,” Beau replied, blowing on his cup.
‘Huh?”
“She’s curating her candy stash.”
“Curating her candy stash?” Hank watched Grace as she unwrapped a miniature Baby Ruth and took a tiny bite. “I thought you did that by going down to the Walmart and taking out a loan for one of those big bags of candy.”
“Nah. Grace uses the Squirrel Method,” Beau said.
“The Squirrel Method?”
Grace walked over to her desk and slid the side drawer open. She dropped in a Snickers with Almonds and slid it under a notepad. She did a little bounce and silently clapped her hands. She gave a satisfied nod as she shut the drawer.
“Why’d she do that?”
“Just wait…”
Then she turned to her bookshelf. Her eyes ran along the spines. She shook her head. She crossed her arms and surveyed the room. Then she turned to her sweater rack, which was mostly like a coat rack, but held her cardigans. She reached into the pocket of her thickest, wooliest sweater and dropped in a Milky Way.
“What was that?” Hank watched Grace do another little bounce and clap.
“A winter opportunity.”
“She knows ain’t nobody stealing the candy dish before January, right?”
“I think so. But by this afternoon, she’ll have forgotten where those pieces even are.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Look, she has chocolate stashed all over this house.”
“How do you know—”
Grace wandered over to the coffee pot.
“Whatcha doin’ there, Grace?” Hank asked. “Squirreling away chocolate?”
“Yep.”
“And you remember where you hide it all?”
“Not usually.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“Because sometimes I find it,” she smiled.
A week later, Grace was rummaging through the supply closet, looking for a stapler.
“...Ooooh!”
She pulled out a miniature Twix and held it up for Beau and Hank and the world to see.
Beau didn’t even look up from tuning his guitar. “Congratulations.”
“I forgot I had this!”
“I know.”
“This just made my whole afternoon.”
“I know.”
“Did you put this in here?”
“I did not.”
“Did you know it was in here?”
“Maybe…”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“And ruin the surprise, Grace?”
She unwrapped it and took a nibble as she walked back to her desk, leaving the supply closet door wide open—and the stapler behind.
“Really. That’s all it takes to make her day?” Hank shook his head as he closed the closet door.
“Yep.”
Beau walked over to the sweater rack and reached into the cardigan pocket. Without looking, he pulled out two pieces of chocolate. He popped one in his mouth.
“Dawg, you stealin’ her stash?”
“Squirrel tax,” Beau winked.
Author’s Note: This story grew out of a real conversation with primalbeet about chocolate.
Then, as usual, the story wandered off on its own.
so fun and lighthearted! love it! :)
Tis a thrill to find money... or chocolate, in a pocket when you least expect it. I get it Grace.