Five Days in Summer

to Emily holding the silver charm bracelet in an open hand.
    “I noticed you wearing it before because I have one too.” The woman lifted her other wrist to show her own bracelet covered in twice as many charms as Emily’s, all gold. “It slipped right into the corn bin. You’re lucky I got there next. I’ve actually been following you.”
    Emily took her bracelet — a jackknifed swimmer, acello, a sword, a heart, three babies and a coin — and closed her fingers around it. She savored the cool silver against her palm. It had been a gift from Will after David’s birth and she’d worn it every day.
    “I don’t know how I missed it,” Emily said. “I didn’t even realize it was gone.”
    “I treasure mine,” the woman said.
    “Just how many children do you have?” Emily had noticed that most of the many gold charms were babies.
    “Four children, nine grandchildren. And counting.” The woman winked. “Don’t wear it until you’ve had it repaired.”
    “Good advice.” Emily slipped the bracelet into her shorts pocket. “I’ve been putting off fixing the clasp. I guess this is my wake-up call.”
    “I’ve always said life is a series of close calls.”
    “You can say that again.”
    The women parted ways, and Emily figured this was why she’d had that sensation of foreboding just before. It wasn’t the corn man. She had lost her favorite bracelet, the one she never took off, and didn’t know it, at least consciously. It was impressive how the mind worked, understanding things even before they were apparent.
    The cart was loaded and it was time to return to the deli to pick up her order. She pushed her way back, marveling at the sheer amount of stuff these megastores could offer. With its constrictions on space, the city had nothing even similar to this when it came to food. She stopped at a bin filled with pink, yellow and blue plastic cups. The sign said they were “magic cups” that would change color when a cold drink was poured in. She knew the kids would love them and bought two of each color.
    She was almost at the deli counter when she saw him again. The corn man was back at the corn. Just when she noticed him, he looked up and saw her. He quickly looked down, and touched three ears of corn. She read the number on her deli receipt, picked up her cold cuts from the appropriate cubby, and detoured two aisles back so she wouldn’t have to pass him to get to the checkout.
    The feeling was back, just when she’d forgotten all about it. She checked for her charm bracelet in her pocket; it was still there.
    Luckily the lines were not as long as when she’d arrived and she reached her cashier quickly. She unloaded her items onto the conveyor belt and bagged them herself as soon as they slid down the ramp. She was nearly done when she looked up and saw the corn man right behind her on line, his cart half full with nothing but corn. He placed it neatly onto the conveyor belt in groups of three. The teenage girl at the register, deeply tan with a ring on every finger, rolled her eyes at Emily. She rolled hers back. They waited in silence through the screechy buzz of the credit card connection and approval. Emily scrawled her signature on the receipt and hurried her cart toward the exit.
    It was a relief to get outside, away from that bizarre man. She couldn’t wait to get home. When she opened the back hatch of her car and stale heat blasted at her face, she knew she was ready for another swim. She could see herself in her red racing suit, plunging into the cool lake. She could hear the chaos of her children’s laughter on the beach.
    She was brought back to the moment by the crescendoing chimes of her cell phone. Digging through her purse, she found it, and answered.
    “They accepted our offer!” It was Will.
    “What offer?”
    “The one I made on the house yesterday. I didn’t want to tell you. It was a surprise.”
    “It is a surprise. Does that mean you got the job?”
    “My third interview’s set up for Wednesday.”
    “But, Will—”
    “Honey, they don’t see you three times if it isn’t in the bag.”
    “I just think we should wait on the house until the job’s definite. You know we can’t afford—”
    “Houses like that go in a day, Em. It’s just an offer, the worst is we’ll lose the promise money, but that’s just a couple thousand dollars and it’s worth the risk, don’t you think so?”
    “If you get the job, it will be.”
    “Don’t worry, it’s