Club Sandwich by Lisa Samson

Author:Lisa Samson [Samson, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-55125-2
Publisher: The Doubleday Religious Publishing Group
Published: 2012-11-07T16:00:00+00:00

Mitch Sullivan enters the bistro, three other men accompanying him. “Ivy!”

“Mitch!” Did somebody jump-start my heart?

“Thought I’d bring a little business your way. Got a table for four?”

“Absolutely. Some good lunch specials today. Brian and the boys went all out.” I sound so professional and smooth.

I show them to a table in the back corner, private and perfect for business. “Can I get you all something to drink?”

Water. Water. Decaf. Coke for Mitch.

I fade into the background as I should.

And that’s me, isn’t it? Fading into the background. Hey! When did I become so obscure? The kids went back to school, which I can’t believe starts in August these days. How horrible for them. Trixie’s still at the day care down the street from the restaurant. Mom just moved back to her apartment with a Life Alert necklace around her neck, and Rusty’s in Minneapolis.

Or is it Milwaukee?

I don’t like that Mom’s on her own, but I’m definitely glad to be out of the trajectory of her barbs. Honestly, Mom and I used to be so close. I hate this. I feel like I’ve lost her already.

I’m praying like crazy that she doesn’t burn the place down around her.

Harry keeps to himself for the most part, and now that Mom’s back home, I’m not on edge about that subterfuge.

A small breathing space surrounds me, and I should be enjoying it a lot more than I am. But I’m worried. About Mom, about Rusty, about Brett, not to mention my own family. Poor Trixie. A little boy named Brady has been downright cruel. I mean, we parents secretly like it when our kids get a taste of their own medicine, but enough is enough.

After the meal a lot of handshaking occurs, and everyone but Mitch exits the restaurant.

“When do you get off work?” he asks.

Whoa. “Three. Persy gets off the bus at three forty-five, and I have to be home by then.”

“Bummer. Okay.”

“Why?”

“Well, just have something I want to talk over with you. You still interested in freelance writing jobs?”

“Definitely. Trixie’s day-care fees are killing me. Lyra’s in private school, and we’re thinking about buying the house from Mom.”

“How about getting together tonight? Can you meet me for coffee?”

Yes! Yes! “It’ll have to be late.” I’ll have Harry keep an eye on the kids. He can handle them sleeping.

“That’s fine. You still live nearby, right? At your grandparents’ place?”

I nod.

“How about at that Starbucks across from Greetings and Readings? It’s more quiet than the one here in Towson.”

“They got one there?”

“Yeah, just down from the Crack Pot.”

The Crack Pot. Maybe we should meet there. It would be fitting for me. The place looks like a dump, but they make great seafood. Sounds just like me. “Okay. How about nine thirty?”

“Great. See you there.”

Off he goes, all businesslike and professional and real. And there. Mitch in the actual flesh. I shouldn’t compare him to Rusty. I shouldn’t wish my husband were more normal. But I can’t help myself. Yeah, Ivy, you thought being with the artsy type would be so cool.

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