Chapter 24
Thursday was a slowday at work, so Brent was annoyed that all he had to do was sit around and worry about his date with Sammy.
Don’t complain, he told himself. In about a month, the yogurt would hit the fan. Winter might not officially start until December twenty-first, but it started a lot earlier than that in Maine. And then right around mid-February, when people were running out of money, and furnaces were breaking left and right, well then he would be working pretty much around the clock.
It was okay. He liked his job. Liked taking care of people. Liked being needed.
But right now no one needed him. He’d topped off the tanks of all his regulars, and the phone wasn’t ringing.
He was miserable. Even without an upcoming date with his ex-wife to worry about, he would hate this sitting around. Butwiththat to worry about, well, he didn’t know how he was going to get through the day.
He’d thought this secret admirer tactic had been an okay idea, but the lack of feedback was killing him. Did she like the gifts? Had she figured out that they’d come from him? Of course she had. She wasn’t stupid. Was she planning on coming on Saturday?
His phone rang, and he was so excited to have a distraction that he dropped it trying to answer it. He bent over, snatched it off the floor, and hurriedly answered.
“Hi, honey. Can you come over for supper on Saturday? I’m making a turkey with all the fixings, and your sister’s coming. It would be good for you to see her. It’s been too long.”
His mother had no idea that he’d ignored her stern advice and gone after Sammy. And he didn’t want to tell her untilafterhe knew that Sammy wasn’t going to reject him. “I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t this weekend.”
“Why?” she demanded.
He couldn’t lie. If he tried, she would know. “I have a date.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
She knew. Shoot.
“What did I tell you about her?”
“Why are you assuming that the date is with Sammy?”
“Because you didn’t tell me about it, and because I know you are having crazy ideas about her, and because I know you don’t want to go out with someone else.” She sighed. “Where are you taking her?”
“The Loft.”
“The Loft? You’re driving all the way to Hartport?”
“Mom, that’s where shelives. And it’s only an hour and a half. You make it sound like I’m driving to Utah.”
“Maybe you should drive to Utah. I hear those Mormon girls are lovely.”
Despite himself, he laughed. “I believe they prefer to be called Latter Day Saints.”
“The Loft is going to cost a fortune.”
He sighed. “Not a fortune, Mom. They’re supposed to have great food. I want to take her someplace nice. She’s my wife, Mom.”
“No, she’s not. That’s what divorce means. Did that crazy church put you up to this?”
“Speaking of church, why won’t you come with me on Sunday? We’re having a guest speaker, supposed to be really good, and then I’ll take you out to lunch.”
“Are you trying to get me off the phone?”
“What? No.” He laughed. “Please? It would make me really happy.”
“No, thank you. I don’t need to go to church. I should let you go.”
“Okay. Love you, Mom.”