They were sifting through the clearance make-up section together. Him and her. Probably married for 45 years or more. She was clearly looking for the right color, the right shade to make her look like the girl he married. He’d find a color, hold it up and she’d take a look. She would gently shake her head no and he would continue on his search. A search he did not seem to mind being on. I couldn’t take my eyes off them which probably made the person behind me frustrated because I was not unloading my groceries quickly enough for her. I don’t usually delay in things like grocery shopping but I certainly did that day. The husband eventually looked up and met my eyes. I smiled. He smiled. My heart was full. Because I want Chris Beall to be there when I need help finding the right shade of blush or the perfect mascara that won’t clump especially when I get to the place in life where my eyelashes start to thin. I want Chris Beall to accompany me to the grocery store when we are retired because it’s the big outing of the day. I want to share my plate at a restaurant with Chris Beall because we have gotten to the place where we can’t eat a full plate on our own. I can’t imagine growing old with anyone else. I love that Chris Beall.