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“You have a good one, too.” Randall set down his phone, shaking his head in disgust.
“I went to the cottage today,” Abby told him.
“Get me another one, would you,” he said, holding up his gin and tonic.
“Sure.” She got up, went inside, and made him a drink. She put some slices of cheese and some crackers on a tray as well. He would be telling her to do this next, once he got sick of the hour-long wait for Lobster Brothers to arrive.
She poured herself a glass of white wine, took a couple of big drinks of it, and added some more to it. She considered bringing the bottle out with her, but she decided it was better to maintain some measure of alertness.
She stole a few daisies from a vase of flowers Rosa had set on their kitchen island, and stuck them in a small white vase. She carried everything outside and set the tray before Randall. Then she settled back into her chair.
“It looks like you’re trying a little harder. I appreciate that,” he said in a cold, businesslike voice. She imagined this was how he spoke to Krissa at work.
“I’m glad you appreciate it.”
“It doesn’t mean we’re in a good place, however.”
“Really.”
“Have you heard of microchips?”
“Like people put in dogs, to help them find their way back to their owners when they’re lost?”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Are you planning to put one in me?”
“I certainly don’t want to.”
“Randall, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I wish I were,” he said sadly.
“I’ve told you over and over again that the reason I never saw that movie was only because I ended up shopping longer than I expected. There was never more to it than that. I should have told you but I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“When you lie to me it means one thing: You’re doing something wrong. Why would you do anything wrong when I give you everything? Do you know how many women would want all of this?”
“I didn’t do anything wrong though. I swear!”
“I don’t know, Sugartitties. I wish I could believe you.”
“Then believe me.”
He made himself a little cheese and cracker sandwich. Randall’s cheese and cracker sandwiches weren’t like other people’s cheese and cracker sandwiches. They were backwards. Instead of two crackers holding a slice of cheese, two slices of cheese held a cracker. Abby had been sure to put out the correct proportion of each on the plate.
“I’m done talking about that day,” he said.
Right. She nodded in supposed deference. “Me too,” she said.
“Didn’t we have any white cheddar?”
“I didn’t see any.”
“I don’t like to run out of white cheddar.”
“I know. I’ll mention it to Rosa.”
“Why don’t you start looking for her replacement. Someone who can cook a meal instead of whatever this spread is. A bonus would be if she could remember not to wear her dirty shoes in the house. Could you do that for me?”
