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Bucky hummed to himself as he wrote out his to-do list for the day. He'd had a nice night's sleep with no nightmares, Steve hadn't stolen the blankets, and it was farmers' market day.
Best of all?
No one tagging along.
The last few weeks he'd done a wonderful job letting Steve and Sam think that he was going to behave at the market. He'd had a trial run the week before where Sam checked his bags before he left, making sure he had only purchased seven plums.
He'd made sure to eat the five extra yellow ones he'd purchased before he got back to Sam.
He grabbed his crochet market bag and took the elevator down to street level. There was a spring to his step as he strolled down the sidewalk, content to ignore all the grumpy people along the way. It wasn't their fault they were grumpy. They probably weren't going to be eating plums later.
He basked in the warmth of sunshine on his face and found himself smiling as he walked. Warm summer heat soaked into the thin material of his shirt and warmed the metal arm. He enjoyed the heat of summer these days, it banished bad thoughts. All that was left rattling around his head were thoughts about plums. The fresh, crisp, tart flesh with just the right crunch. The sticky, sweet juices running down his chin and fingers. The aroma that made his mouth water in anticipation.
Today was the perfect day.
He was going to get him some plums.
* . * . *
Today was a horrible day.
Bucky could feel the frown heavy on his face as he walked through the farmers' market for the fourth time. Everything had been beautiful and wonderful when he'd arrived but now that he was standing at the empty spot where the plum vendor usually set up his table, the world felt clouded and gray.
The first time through, he thought maybe the plum vendor was just as a different spot. Maybe they were near the entrance instead of near the back. But no, after making the circuit twice, Bucky concluded that that wasn't the case.
On circuit number three, he surreptitiously checked every vendor's face, thinking maybe the man who ran the plum stand was in trouble. He was missing; surely one of his stall neighbors would be worried about him. Yet no one seemed bothered by the missing vendor and his missing produce.
By Bucky's fourth circuit, he was distraught. What could have happened to the plum vendor and why was no one but Bucky upset that he was gone? Had one of the others hired a hit-man to take out their competition? Wouldn't the Avengers have heard about it? Stark's AI was constantly scouring the internet for things like that, they wouldn't have missed something this close to home. "Hey, you're the plum guy, right?" someone asked from one of the stalls near where the vendor normally set up.
Bucky turned to look at him and caught the minute flinch the man gave. Bucky exhaled and relaxed his hunched shoulders. He tried to wipe what Sam had called his 'murder-glare' off of his face but by the nervous way the guy was still looking at him he doubted it worked. "Am I the plum guy?"
"Yeah, you're here every week buying plums from my dad. He's mentioned you," the vendor said. In front of him was a wide variety of vegetables. Squash, okra, and green beans all were on prominent display. On the other side was a small basket of red and yellow apples.
Bucky nodded, glancing down at the produce so he wouldn't have to keep making eye contact. "I do come by every week and buy plums. Where is he?" The words sounded harsh in his head and he glanced back up to make sure the kid didn't find offense.
"Oh, he's taking the day off to help mom make jams. Next week, they'll be back with all the jars of it."
Bucky might have whimpered. Why would they jar up all the beautiful fruit?
His expression must have said as much and the guy shrugged. "It's that time of the year when all the plums seem ripe at once and they'd need two stalls just for the plums. It won't all sell before the fruit goes overripe and starts to rot. Best thing to do with it is make jams. Those sell well through the winter or until the market closes up shop in December."
Bucky's shoulders sagged. Or maybe his bottom lip wobbled. What was he going to do now? How was he going to get his sticky, tart, juicy fruit fix now?
"You know," the young man said, gesturing out between them like he was tossing out a solution to Bucky's problem, "The grocery stores will probably have plums on sale for another few weeks before they go out of season completely. You might try there." And belatedly realizing that he'd just sent a potential customer to a big corporation, he added, "But before you leave, did you want to get any veg for dinner? It's bound to be fresher than whatever you'll find at a grocery store."
Bucky wanted to dash out of the market and go directly to the store, on the off chance that they would have plums but he owed it to the kid to at least check out his haul. He gave a stiff little nod and looked around.
What could he get that would make Sam proud? Sam was always going on about adding more green things to their diet. Bucky wasn't getting the okra again, that was for sure, but squash wasn't offensive really. He picked out several large green and yellow squash and got an enormous bag of green beans. The kid offered him a few apples to round out the purchase.
Bucky left the market laden with produce and headed to the grocery store. He was determined to get his plums.