Must Love Sandwiches

by Janel Gradowski

  The automatic door swung open. An intoxicating aroma enveloped Daisy. Savory, smoky and undeniably meaty. The market was famous for it’s homemade sausage and they often offered samples to entice customers. Her stomach growled. She patted her belly. Take it easy, killer. Bread, milk and other essentials needed to be picked up before she could visit the meat counter. The cupboards had more dust bunnies than food, so the payment from a gallery in Ferndale couldn’t have come at a better time.

  Having money was awesome, but she still needed to watch how much she spent. The bakery area was filled with tempting loaves in every shape and size. The green olive with parmesan was a favorite variety, but the plain, white sandwich loaf cost half as much. “I’ll come back for you another day,” she whispered to the olive loaf as she dropped the budget-friendly victor into her basket.

  She wandered through every aisle, comparing prices and selecting only the items she really wanted. The mesh tote bags Emma had suggested she make were selling like hotcakes in the colony’s gallery. Even though she was having problems keeping them on the shelves, her friend had come up with another brilliant idea to increase sales. A booth at the farmer’s market. On the second Saturday of every month the market loosened their vendor restrictions and allowed crafters and artists to sell their wares among the produce and flower stands. It could work if she came up with a less elaborate tote bag pattern to knit. The ones she was currently making took so long to knit she could barely keep up with the demand.

  As she was thinking of potential patterns, Daisy rounded a corner and came face to face with the glorious meat counter. It was stocked with rows of fat sausages and thick, marbled steaks. The source of the drool-worthy scent was a few feet away, sitting on a small table. An electric skillet was filled with sizzling chunks of smoked sausage. While the sausage nibbles were tempting the man standing next to them was even tastier. Marshall, the owner of Vegan Valhalla and all-around smoking hottie, speared a piece of sausage with a toothpick and popped it into his mouth.

  His eyes widened as he looked at her and then at the butcher behind the counter. “Oops. Looks like I’ve been busted.” Marshall looked back at Daisy and said, “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  “No offense taken.” She rearranged the items in her basket. Why did he think he offended her? Sure, it was a shock to see him eating a big, juicy chunk of pork product, but it didn’t bother her. In fact, it made her insanely happy. It was like eating a gooey brownie and then finding out it was low-fat. “Why would I be offended?”

  “Some vegans aren’t big fans of carnivores.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Please don’t tell anybody that I eat meat. I could lose a lot of customers if they found out about this.”

  Just standing there like a drooling idiot wasn’t exactly flattering. Daisy stepped around him to snag her own sample of sausage. She took a deep breath before stuffing the smoky nibble in her mouth. Her mind would really stop working if she started hyperventilating and cut off its oxygen supply. “Your secret is safe with me. I’m not a vegan either. I love your food, but I can’t live without bacon.”

  Marshall whistled softly. “I’ll be damned.”

  She turned to face the butcher. The corners of her mouth twitched as she tried to hold back a huge grin. It seemed that she had surprised him as much as he had surprised her. “Can I get a pound of the thick-cut pepper bacon?”

  “Good choice. Coming right up,” he said as he turned to retrieve the bacon.

  “Since you’re willing to keep my secret I guess I owe you an explanation.”

  Daisy looked at Marshall. The smile won the battle with her face muscles. She hoped there wasn’t anything stuck between her teeth. “I am curious about why you own a vegan food truck and eat meat, but it’s really none of my business.”

  He tipped his head sideways, like he was studying an odd painting. Maybe there was something in her teeth. She clamped her lips shut as he said, “I trust you. Besides, I think it’s kind of cool that you like my food and bacon. Those things don’t really go together.”

  She blinked. Did he just say he thought she was cool? The butcher put the package of bacon on the top of the meat case and asked, “Anything else?”

  “No.” She reached for the white paper package. It slipped from her fingers as she slid it toward her. The bundle of bacon flipped off the edge of the meat case and somehow, miraculously, landed in her basket. She was such a klutz when she was nervous. When the bacon was securely nestled between the bread and a bag of grapes she looked up. Marshall was staring at her.

  He asked, “Do you like that sausage we just tried?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded at the butcher and said, “I’ll take a pound of the smoked sausage.”

  Daisy shifted her weight from foot to foot. It was time to make her exit, before she dropped her basket on his foot, or worse. “Well, enjoy the sausage. I’ll see you around.”

  “Wait.” He touched her elbow when she turned away. “Have you had lunch yet?”

  Her stomach answered with a loud growl. “No. I’ve been busy knitting.”

  “I would love to make you lunch so I can explain how I came to be a carnivore.” He nodded at the exit. “My apartment is a couple blocks away. We can walk there in less than five minutes.”

  So this was what it was like to be a deer caught standing in the headlights of a speeding car. He was finally asking her out and her brain wouldn’t work. “Um…I...”

  “I’m making sausage with tri-colored peppers.”

  Her stomach roared again and kicked her brain into gear. This was the moment she had been waiting for. Don’t screw it up. “Sounds good.”

  “Come on. Let’s go to the park and get some lunch. I don’t want to go by myself. It just isn’t the same without you.” Daisy tilted her head and frowned. Her sad puppy look, but it wasn’t going to work this time.

  “No way. I’m not going down there.” Emma filled a small saucepan with water and set it on the stove burner. A drop of water slid down the side of the pan and evaporated with a hiss on the glowing, red coil. “I don’t want to see Brad and you still need to make sure you have enough money to make your rent next week.”

  “I sold three tote bags and a baby blanket in the gallery. So I can buy lunch for both of us and still not get evicted.” She tilted her head to the side. “I can’t believe it’s been over a week and you still haven’t asked him what was going on. Let’s go. Don’t you want to find out who the woman sticking her tongue down his throat was?”

  “No. I still don’t want to know.” Emma struggled to open a package of ramen noodles. She tugged on opposite sides of the thin, plastic wrapper. It ripped open and the brick of noodles clattered onto the floor. It skittered across the tiles and bounced off the bottom of the refrigerator. “He’s a business associate now. Nothing else. It’s none of my business who he hooks up with.”

  “I don’t believe you. You know you want to know who she is. Curiosity killed the cat, darling.”

  “You can’t be curious if you don’t care.” Emma sighed as she bent over to pick up the main ingredient of her economy lunch. A gray dust bunny clung to the corner of the dry noodles. She tossed them into the trash can. Maybe if Daisy hadn’t been watching her she would’ve just rinsed off the noodles and used them. The boiling water would kill any bacteria. If she did happen to catch something, the physical misery would pair nicely with the psychological anguish.

  “You know, lying to yourself is detrimental to your mental health.” Daisy traced circles in the air near her ears. The universal sign for crazy. “Why don’t you just go buy an entire litter of kittens and start establishing yourself as a crazy cat lady?”

  “Better a cat lady than desperate tramp,” Emma said as she banged open a cabinet door to retrieve her last package of ramen. She had been so busy painting doors and worrying that her life was falling apart at the seams, that she had forgotten to get groceries over the last few weeks. The thought of one of Brad’s smoke
d turkey sandwiches made her mouth water, but she refused to give into her craving. There was no way she could face him.

  Daisy shook her head. “I see we need to go over this again. You need to give up the insane idea that you are becoming your mother. Obviously, your childhood wasn’t sunshine and picket fences because of her, but why do you think you’re destined to be the same way? Last week she outright told you that you are nothing like her.”

  “Would you like me to start listing all of my boyfriends? All of the guys I was with before you and I became friends? All I need to do is get pregnant and I’ll be exactly like good, old mom.”

  “You are so stubborn and sorry, but you are being incredibly stupid.” Daisy stomped back and forth between the refrigerator and couch. “What if walking away from Brad is your big mistake, like your mother’s biggest mistake was cheating on your father? I don’t blame you for not wanting to turn your bedroom into a revolving sex den, but you’re just heading down a different branch of the same path.”

  Emma slammed the refrigerator shut. She had opened it to retrieve an ingredient for her unpalatable lunch, but forgot what she was looking for. Daisy’s pointed comments were too distracting for her to focus on anything else. “You saw him kissing that woman, too. Getting involved with a guy who is with someone else is exactly the kind of thing my mom does.”

  “How many times do I have to say this? Stop with this selective hearing bullshit. At least ask him who she is. I know you’re mad at him, and me right now, but I just have a feeling that the snog fest wasn’t what it seemed.” Daisy stopped in front of the door with a loud stomp of her hiking boots. “I’m going to the park to get something decent to eat. Please come with me.”

  “No. And don’t even think of asking him about the woman. I don’t want to know anything about her.” Emma turned away as Daisy walked out and slammed the door. Wisps of steam rose from the pan of boiling water. She tossed the replacement block of noodles into the bubbling liquid and sprinkled in the seasoning packet. She often spent close to ten dollars buying lunch from Brad. As she poked at the softening noodles with a fork she tried to convince herself that she was just saving hard-earned money by eating the cheap pasta.

  Daisy had struck more than a raw nerve, she had tromped around, stomping on every painful, sensitive truth. She was right, even though Emma hated to admit it. Seeing Brad kissing the woman tripped a circuit breaker. There was something different about him. Her heart wanted to be with him no matter how many times her brain tried to rationalize that she needed to stay away. Finding him with another woman pushed her over the edge, into a dark, emotional chasm. Could Daisy also be right about the scene not being what it seemed? Emma dumped the softened noodles into a ceramic bowl. She curled up in the recliner to slurp noodles and contemplate how she could bring the subject up with Brad. She couldn’t just close a door in her mind and pretend the incident never happened. She couldn’t walk away from him, either.

  A dribble of broth ran down her chin. She wiped it off with the back of her hand. An egg was what she had been looking for in the refrigerator when Daisy derailed her thoughts. She had planned on topping the noodles with a fried egg. A little hot sauce could help salvage the unsatisfying meal, if there was any left. She got up to check. There was a knock on the door before she could begin her search. Daisy was a brave woman to come back and make another attempt to convince her to talk to Brad. Emma abandoned the noodles on the counter and swung the door open. “I’m surprised you came back. My craziness could be contagious.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve been crazy for a long time.”

  It wasn’t Daisy standing in the hallway. It was Brad.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought that banana bread sandwich we talked about. I was hoping you’d stop by the truck, but since you didn’t, here I am.”

  “Oh, well, I’ve been swamped with new orders.” Emma stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. This wasn’t good. She hadn’t figured out how to bring up the woman yet, without making it sound like she was stalking him. She really wanted to know what had happened, but he didn’t even know she was near the truck that evening. Hopefully he would leave after she tried the samples. “I usually just eat while I’m working now.” She pointed at her bowl. “That’s why I haven’t been around the park.”

  Brad set a foam take-out box on the kitchen counter, next to the worm-like noodles. He flipped open the lid to reveal bite-sized sandwiches, drizzled in chocolate and caramel sauce. “We put out free samples and could barely keep up with demand for them. Judging from what people said, these are going to be a hit.” He plucked a fork out of the silverware jar sitting next to the stove. He speared one of the morsels and offered it to her. “This one is banana bread with honey and cream cheese filling.”

  Emma took the fork. She closed her eyes as the flavors exploded in her mouth. The sandwich was lightly grilled, giving a rich crispness to the dense bread. The filling was smooth and creamy, with just the right level of sweetness. “This is so good. Better than I imagined it would be.”

  “Better than you imagined? What? Did you doubt my culinary skills?” He took the fork back from Emma and returned it with another sample. “This one is pound cake with chocolate hazelnut filling.”

  Emma savored the second offering then licked caramel sauce off her lips. “They are both so good. I’m sure they’ll be a hit.” She handed Brad a clean fork. “You need to help eat these. I’ll gain five pounds if you leave all of them here.”

  “Come on. You have to indulge every once in awhile. There’s only one pound worth of calories here anyway.” Brad’s gaze wandered around the room and settled on Emma’s work bench. He crossed the room to examine the projects sitting on it. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

  “There are only a few of my things left in the gallery downstairs, since I’ve been doing a lot of online sales. I need to replenish my stock.” So much for getting him out the door quickly. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She plucked another banana bread sandwich out of the box. Part of her wanted to offer him a drink and invite him to sit down. Another part wanted to shove him out the door before she blurted out something that she would regret.

  Brad leaned down to examine one of the fairy doors closer. It had a circular window and was covered in silver metallic paint. “This looks like a restaurant kitchen door. I can’t believe how much detail you put into these. You are a talented woman.”

  He was pouring it on a bit thick. Even though the compliment was a bunch of hot air the only response should could choke out was, “Thank you.”

  Brad frowned as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to sit down and get this over with?”

  A lump materialized in her throat. She swallowed, but it refused to budge. “Get what over with?”

  “I met Daisy on the sidewalk on my way here. She told me you two saw Beth kissing me last weekend.”

  Emma gasped. Daisy, the traitor, had talked to him. She would have to thank her for forcing her into this nightmare of a conversation. “Your private life is none of my business. It’s not Daisy’s either. Sorry.”

  “The woman was Beth, my ex-girlfriend. She was drunk and pulled one of her typical, manipulative maneuvers. She cornered me when I was closing up. I swear, it didn’t go any farther than that kiss.” He collapsed into the recliner. Apparently he was going to make himself at home whether she wanted him to or not. “Please believe me.”

  Emma spun around the office chair that was sitting in front of her workbench and dropped onto it. So the make-out scene really wasn’t what it appeared to be. Daisy would be thrilled to find out she was right. “It’s your life and I’m just the woman who gives you sandwich ideas. Like I said, it’s none of my business who you’re involved with.”

  “That’s what you think?” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I just hang around because I want you to help me with my menu?”

  “Isn’t that what you want? You’re the one that asked me to come up with dessert i
deas for your truck.” Emma nudged the floor with her toe and slid farther away from Brad. The back of the chair slammed into the edge of the workbench.

  “I asked you for more ideas because I loved the dessert sandwiches you came up with off the top of your head. I also wanted to spend more time with you because I really like you. I was hoping we’d do more than talk about pound cake and banana bread when we went to Josh’s.”

  Emma reached behind her, grabbed one of the ceramic bowls off the workbench and nestled it on her lap. She scooped up a handful of beads and dropped them back into the bowl, one at a time. “You’re a great guy, but I’m not sure I can handle a relationship right now. I need a shopping cart to carry around all of my mental baggage.”

  She swiveled away from him, plucked more beads from the bowls scattered across the workbench and arranged them in the grooves of a jewelry designing board. Brad’s kiss with Beth looked too passionate to have ended at one lip lock. She wanted to believe that there was nothing going on with his ex, but she had also believed Max.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m having a difficult time believing that kiss from Beth was a friendly peck on the cheek. I bet she wants you back and I bet she’s not the kind of woman who takes no for an answer.”

  Brad said, “You’re right. She did want more, but I didn’t give it to her. There’s no way I will ever go back to her. She was impossible to live with. I don’t ever want to be involved with someone that insane again.”

  She turned to look at him. “You do remember I make furniture for fairies, right?”

  “I’m okay with that. Just let me know if any evil fairies start telling you to go after me with a knife.”

  Emma giggled at his attempt to lighten the conversation’s mood. “Why? Did Beth try to stab you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really?” His ex really was a lunatic. “She tried to kill you?”

  “It was more like threatened great bodily harm and she waved a knife around to make her point. I wasn’t impressed and the relationship was over at that moment, even though she won’t admit it. Nothing was ever her fault. There’s something seriously wrong with a person who can’t understand why using a cleaver to win an argument is a bad thing.” He leaned over the arm of the recliner. “I don’t want to get back with Beth. The relationship is over, with a zero chance of resuscitation, despite what you saw. Do you believe me?”