Deadly Dosage (29 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Richards

BOOK: Deadly Dosage
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     “She’s
fine, Sam,” Brandi said tersely. “Let’s get going before it gets too crowded.”

     Sam
stared blankly at Brandi for a second and pulled out.

 

 

Erv’s Mug
offered a nice selection of entrees plus a wide range of imported beers; therefore,
it stayed popular with the locals. A group of five entered right before us, yet
we managed to get a table before the place got too crowded.

     Sam
and I ordered a domestic beer, while Brandi, after much consideration, chose a Rutti-Tutti
Fresh and Fruity specialty drink.
     I noticed while Sam and I ordered the least expensive item on the menu,
Brandi ordered closer to the most expensive item—a strip steak with mushrooms.
She certainly wanted to get her money’s worth on a date. Maybe I was a sucker,
but I was in the mood for a cheeseburger with fries. I hoped Brandi ate fast,
or we’d never make the movie.

     “Sam!
Sunny!”

      Sam
and I looked up to see Chuck Nolan. He dragged over a vacant chair from a
nearby table and sat down, straddling the chair with his arms crossed over the
back of it. Chuck always reminded me of a trucker or a lumberjack with his
western styled plaid or denim shirts, torn blue jeans, and workman’s boots.
Tall, with dark brown hair, long sideburns, mustache and goatee, he reminded me
of a popular country singer whose name escapes me. He loved country music;
Donna despised it.

     “Looks
good,” he said taking a fry from Sam’s plate. “Sunny here is stealing Donna
away from me on Friday night. Why don’t you join me and the guys bowling?
Pitchers are five bucks.”

     “Like
to buddy, but I’ve made other plans.”

     “I
get it,” he said. “You two want to be alone.”

     I
cleared my throat and Chuck finally noticed Brandi on his right. He awkwardly
put out his hand to shake hers. “Hi doll, Chuck’s the name. You must be,” he
drummed the table and shot Sam a glance, “Brandi right?”

     “Pleased
to meet you,” she smiled at Chuck and looked bitterly at Sam.

     Sam
focused on his plate and played with a French fry. I gulped down my beer and
Chuck stood up.

     “Call
me when you’re free, Sam. Guys are waiting for me at the bar. Sunny, always a
treat. Brandi, nice to have met you.” He rolled his eyes and left our table.

     “Need
to hurry up, Brandi, if we’re going to make that movie,” Sam said briskly.

     “I’m
done. I’m just going to visit the powder room.” She shoved her chair back, tossed
her napkin over her plate and left.

     “Nice
one, Chuck,” I said.

     “It’s
not his fault. Anyone could tell it’s you I want to be with tonight.”

“Guess you blew that chance when you chose Brandi over me for
tonight’s date.”

“Ouch,” he said putting his hand to his heart. “But the fact
is, Brandi asked me, not the other way around. Besides, you already had plans
for tonight.”

The waitress came by and he grabbed the check. He reached in
his wallet for his credit card and handed it to her.

     “Yeah,
but…”

“Yeah but, yeah but…,” he repeated when the waitress left
with his card. “Shut up and kiss me.”

     Sometimes
he was fun to argue with, so I gave in and gave him a little peck on his nose.

     He
responded with a quick kiss on my mouth and grinned. “You’re a spoiled brat.”

     “Why?”
I asked. “I’m not the one that ordered the most expensive meal.”

      His
right arm was perched on the table with his chin resting on his fist. He
brushed his chin with his index finger. “Touché,” he said. He glanced over his
shoulder toward the restrooms and back again. “Brandi seemed a little
perturbed.”

     “Do
you blame her?” I said finishing my beer.

     He
ignored my question. “I have plans for us Saturday night, so keep that date
open. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

     “What
about Friday night?” I thought Chuck had guessed right and he cancelled the
bowling date to see me. What did I know?

The waitress returned with the credit card slips.

“I’m busy that night,” he said signing the receipt. He handed
it back to the waitress with her pen and pocketed his copy.

“Saturday night is fine. I think I should meet you though if
Brandi is home.”

     He
opened his mouth to speak and closed it as Brandi returned to the table. He
gave a slight nod in agreement.

We both got up and followed Brandi out. The parking lot was
filled to capacity, so we carefully maneuvered around the vehicles, watching
for icy patches.

 

 

The
cinema had six screens and no one, except for us, was here to see Mr. Beano as
Brandi called him. I didn’t think that was a very good sign.

     Sam
stood in line to buy Brandi some popcorn. I was surprised she had room for it
after the steak dinner. At five bucks a bucket, I’d take it home and eat it if
no one else wanted it.

     Sam
and Brandi were waiting for me when I returned from the restroom. He handed me
a large box of red licorice.

     “Hey,
you remembered! This is sweet.” I reached for the box. Sam smiled. “No pun
intended,” I added.

Brandi held tight to her popcorn bucket as we walked down the
hall, looking for the right entrance. It was the last screen on the left.

The previews had started and the theater was dark. I grabbed
and hung on to Sam’s jacket like a little kid, as he and Brandi climbed the
stairs ahead of me. My night vision is terrible.

     I
personally love sitting at the very top row in the theater, right smack in the
middle. If I were alone with Sam, that’s where we’d be headed. But since it was
Brandi’s night, I followed her into the middle row. She wasn’t as dumb as she
looked, because she made sure I sat on her left with Sam on her right.

     We
waited through ten minutes of previews, before the movie started. I offered my
licorice to Brandi but she declined. I reached my arm around her back and
tapped Sam’s shoulder. He turned and I held up the box. He reached in front of
Brandi and took it, shaking out a few pieces and handed it back to me. I
reached for a handful of popcorn and grabbed Sam’s hand. He playfully slapped
mine and took his popcorn. We passed the licorice back and forth until Brandi
got so annoyed she asked me to move to the seat to the right of Sam. So I moved
over to make her happy. She handed the bucket of popcorn to Sam and leaned into
him.

     Sam
played it smart. He swung his left arm around the back of Brandi’s seat first
before his right arm slipped around my shoulders. I peeked over and Brandi was
clueless.

     As
expected, the movie was stupid, sometimes so stupid I actually laughed out
loud. I think either the beer or the situation I was in, helped make it a bit
more humorous. With my eyes on the screen, I reached over for more popcorn with
my left hand and grabbed Sam’s crotch. He started laughing hysterically. The
jerk purposely moved the bucket over when he saw me reaching for it. I elbowed
him in the gut, but it didn’t stop his laughter.

Brandi stared at him. “It wasn’t that funny,” she said
referring to the scene in the movie.

This made me laugh. I shook out a chunk of licorice and threw
it at him. He swerved and it hit Brandi square in the face.

     “Hey!”
she said, brushing the licorice to the floor.

     “Sorry,”
I said trying not to laugh.

     Sam
was beside himself. He started to laugh and changed it into a cough.

     Brandi
reached into the bucket and tossed a handful of popcorn into his face.

     I
laughed so hard my side ached.

     The
two other people in the movie theater turned and gave us startled looks. They
had to be wondering what the heck was so funny. It certainly wasn’t the movie.

When the movie was over, we kicked the popcorn into the lower
row and got out before the cleaning crew entered.

     “I
can’t believe you and Sam thought that movie was so funny.” Brandi said as we
were walking to Sam’s truck. “I must have missed something.”

     “No
doubt,” responded Sam the smart aleck. “So home?” he asked opening Brandi’s
door.

     “Do
you mind stopping at the grocery store,” I asked. “I just remembered we need
bread and soda.”

“Sure. I’ll take you to the one by your apartment.”

     He
drove to the grocery store and parked in the emergency lane. I jumped out and
told them I wouldn’t be long.

     The
store was relatively empty, so I breezed through the aisles getting some rye
bread and a 12-pack of diet cola. Near the checkout stand, there stood a cooler
with bottled soft drinks, water, and juice. The orange juice was the same brand
Mr. Schroeder’s daughter gave him. An idea occurred to me. I slid the door back
and took two bottles.

     I
paid for my stuff and carried it back to the truck. Sam jumped out and opened
the door for me. His door opening skills were improving and I had to admit I
was impressed. I thanked him and hopped in.

     We
were back at the apartment in no time. It had been a fun evening and I was
sorry it was over. Sam parked but kept the motor running.

“Thanks for taking me along,” I said to Sam. “I had a good
time. You didn’t have to pay for me though.”

“Really?” he said. “Next time I’ll let you pay.” He smiled. “I
had fun too.”

I waited for Brandi to hop out. Instead, she turned around
and mouthed, “go” to me. I forgot it
was
her date after all. She only
let me come along to be nice.

“Thanks, Brandi,” I said quickly. I felt that familiar stab
of jealousy before I opened the door and jumped out with my groceries. I
slammed the door behind me and started up the stairs without turning back.

     I
could only blame myself. The phone worked two ways. I should have called Sam
before Brandi did; it was as simple as that. Besides, how could I blame Sam for
making out with Brandi? If my plans didn’t fall though, I would have been
making out with Lloyd.

     On
second thought, it was Sam’s fault. If he had proposed before I met Lloyd,
things would be very different now. Water under the bridge. I trudged the rest
of the way up the stairs and let myself into the dark apartment.

     No
calls on the answering machine. Clock on the stove read 9:45. I wasn’t tired. I
dumped my jacket on a chair, put away the groceries, and filled a mug with
water. I placed it in the microwave and hit one minute. Some soothing Chamomile
tea and a bit of reading before bedtime would help.

     While
the tea was steeping, I got ready for bed. The eye makeup took some time to
remove. At least it stayed on all night. I brushed my teeth and returned to the
kitchen for my tea just as Brandi was opening the door. She graced me with a
sleepy smile, twisting her tousled hair behind her head, showing off the hickey
on her neck. No big shakes—just teenage stuff. However, when she passed me on
the way to her bedroom, I couldn’t help but notice that the buttons on the top
of her shirtdress were now fastened incorrectly; the right side was up two
buttons higher than the left.

     “Goodnight,”
she said dreamily.

     “Night,”
I said. I walked over to the patio door. “Thought you didn’t like her, Sam,” I
said under my breath. I pulled the vertical blinds aside and looked out. Sam’s
truck stilled hummed in the parking lot as though he knew I would come and look
out. He waved and threw me a kiss. My lips tightened and I whipped him the
middle finger. He laughed and backed out, burning rubber on the way out.

     I
returned to the kitchen, dumped my tea, and went to bed…angry.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
36

Wednesday,
February 22
nd

 

 

Another
blasted migraine thanks to another significant temperature change. The weather
in southeastern Wisconsin could make a bear go into permanent hibernation. I
wanted to stay under the covers but my alarm clock and migraine forced me to get
up and start the day.

     I
prayed Lloyd made it home tonight in time for our date. The last thing I needed
was to stay home with Brandi and her hickey.

     In
comparing the two men in my life, I’d say Lloyd is the boat and Sam is the sea.
Life is relatively safe in the boat but not in the sea. Of course, the sea
could get rough enough to capsize the boat, leaving me treading in unsafe
waters. I wondered if the boat came with a life preserver.

     Autumn
told me I over analyze everything. I think she had a point. I have tried to
change, but then I start to analyze the benefits of that. I’m completely
hopeless like Charlie Brown.

     I
rushed through the morning’s activities to the best of my ability with only
half of my brain functioning normally. The migraine pills left me in a sort of
medicinal fog.

     I
ran out the door and remembered the orange juice halfway down the first flight
of stairs. I went back up the stair and entered my apartment. I walked straight
to the refrigerator, opened the door, and retrieved the bottle I refilled with
tap water. I closed the door and put the bottle in a brown paper lunch bag. I
went back out, locked my apartment door, and ran back down the stairs to my
car.

Traffic moved along without any delays and soon I found
myself in the parking lot searching for an empty space. Either the number of
employees was increasing or the parking spaces were decreasing, because it
became more difficult each week to find a space.

     Donna
greeted me when I came through the front entrance. She introduced me to her
current tour group and I continued on to the time clock. The wet mop aroma
drifting from the kitchen made me gag. Making haste, I covered my nose and
punched my timesheet. I was five minutes late.

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