This Lifetime. | Edward Heffron

II.

"I was sitting in my room," the old woman started, taking sections of her granddaughters hair, "Singing along to Hank Williams like I always did as I cleaned."

"Eleanor!" Her mother called, startling her enough that her voice cracked. Lowering the volume on her radio, she ran downstairs, where her younger siblings were busy helping their mother clean the kitchen. There were 8 children in total, with Eleanor at the lead. That meant she was responsible for everyone, and that also meant she never had any time alone, for herself. "Dear, we have new neighbors. They have five," her mother lifted a hand, showing all five fingers, "Five children. Can you believe that?"

Eleanor simply nodded, knowing full well where this was going, "I suspect you want me to bring eggs to sell to them?"

"You read my mind," her mother smiled, handing her a basket filled with eggs.

"Mother, we sell eggs to literally the whole town. I don't wanna be known as the egg girl," the young woman grumbled, but accepted the basket anyway, ready to put on her shoes.

"That's seven people including the parents, imagine how much eggs they eat!"

As Eleanor walked towards her new neighbors house, she stopped to look towards the rolling green fields she called home. It was 1940, and for the past few months, nations in Europe had been in war with one another. Germany had invaded Poland the year before, and just days later, France and Britain joined forces to try and end the occupation.

But that was Europe. Where they were from, it was quiet. The only noise came from her mother, scolding her kids into doing their chores, and in her case, into selling strangers eggs.

Her shoes crunched in the gravel, as Eleanor stopped in front of a rather large house overlooking a farm. Bringing her knuckles to the front door, Eleanor took a deep breath, wondering who out of all seven people apparently living in this home would answer the front door.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard someone behind her clear their throat. "Can I help you?" a young man with striking red hair asked. His tone was not hostile, but rather kind, and Eleanor's tense shoulders relaxed.

"Yes," she paused, suddenly remembering she had a basket filled with eggs, "I was wondering if you'd like to buy some eggs?"

"It depends," the young man squinted, lifting his chin ever so slightly, "How much are they?"

"30 cents for a dozen," she replied, showing the young man the basket of perfectly good eggs, "But I can give you two dozen for 50 cents."

The young man nodded, picking up an egg and bringing it towards the sun, squinting one of his eyes, "How much do I have to pay for you to come back tomorrow?"

Eleanor couldn't help but smile.