by Donna Poole
Susie half-sat, half-sprawled at the kitchen table fanning herself with a piece of yesterday’s mail. Mack’s going to be home for lunch soon. I should get up and make something, but I can’t. I absolutely can’t move another inch in this heat and humidity. And they say the heat index is going to go up to 113 next week. Great time for the air conditioning to die.
The screen door slammed and she heard Mack’s familiar whistling as he came into the house. Usually, it made her smile and feel thankful he worked a job close enough to come home at his lunch hour. Not today. The weather had squeezed out the last ounce of gratitude.
“I don’t suppose we can afford to get the air conditioner fixed,” Susie snapped without so much as a hello.
Mack’s “You are my sunshine” whistling stopped mid note and left his lips in an oh shape.
“We can’t even afford basic upkeep on this house, Mack. And you should have been retired years ago,” Susie continued, ignoring the hurt look in his baby blue eyes and the way his white hair fell down on his forehead. “If only we hadn’t had to rescue your parents when their business was failing. And then, when they died, they left everything to your brother!”
The smallest of sighs escaped Mack, and he dropped into the chair opposite her. “Susie, we’ve had this conversation so many times. We agreed helping my parents was the right thing to do twenty years ago when we did it. And I don’t resent Mom and Dad for leaving everything to Billy. He always had a hard time keeping a job. He’d be homeless now if it weren’t for my parents.”
Susie didn’t even try to take the edge off her bitterness. “Yeah, and now Billy is retired and enjoying the good life, and it doesn’t look like you’ll ever be able to. How long do you think you’re going to be able to keep going, Mack? Eventually, your body is going to say enough is enough!”
Mack’s bad knee cracked loudly, and he winced as he stood. He leaned across the table and kissed her forehead. “One day at a time, sweet Susie.”
She impatiently brushed at the spot he’d kissed, and there was no mistaking the hurt on his face. But all he said was, “How about combination sandwiches for lunch? I’ll make them.”
He smiled tenderly, and her heart melted. “Oh, Mack!” She put her head on the table and sobbed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re doing the best you can.”
He hugged away her tears and then got out the copper frying pan. The combination sandwiches frying pan. And the hands on the clock flew back forty-five years.
They’d been sitting in a kitchen smaller than this on a day even hotter. Their one window fan sputtered and slowly stopped spinning.
“Perfect,” Mack grunted. “Just perfect.” He folded his arms on the red Formica table and dropped his head on them.
Married less than a year, Susie was expecting their first child, and Mack had been laid off from his job at the factory.
“Look at me, honey,” Susie said. “It will get better. You’ll get called back to work. Or you’ll get a better job. God will take care of us, you’ll see.”
Mack didn’t look up. Susie tried singing his favorite song, “You are my sunshine,” in her off key voice; that usually made him laugh. Nothing.
“Do you want to feel the baby move?” She tugged one of Mack’s hands out from under his head and put it on her large belly. The baby, who’d been kicking up a 1920’s Charleston, stopped moving. Because of course he did. Mack put his hand back under his head.
“I’m going to make lunch,” Susie announced. “And I’m going to use that new copper frying pan we got for our wedding and have never used yet.”
“Whatcha gonna fry up? Air chops?” Mack mumbled, head still down. “Wait!” He sat up. “We said we weren’t going to use that pan until our first anniversary, and then we’d fry steak.”
Susie looked pointedly at the calendar on the wall, and Mack groaned. “It’s our anniversary. Our first one. I’m so sorry. Not only did I forget, but I don’t have money to buy steak.”
“Who needs steak? I’m going to make combination sandwiches, and we’re going to have dinner theater.”
“What and what?”
Susie laughed at his confusion. “My parents used to make combination sandwiches. It’s fun. Basically, you just combine whatever you can find from the fridge, though ours usually ended up with scrambled eggs as the main part. And our dinner theater is going to be whatever show is on television tonight.”
She put “You are My Sunshine” on the record player and held out her arms. He sighed, then smiled, then jumped up and danced her around the kitchen. Together they pulled from the fridge the four eggs they had left, two slices of cheese, a jar of sweet pickles, a few tomato slices, ketchup, and mayonnaise. Susie took a loaf of bread from the top of the fridge and uncovered the toaster.
“How about if I toast the bread while you scramble the eggs?” she asked.
“Wait,” Mack said, pulling the change from his pockets and looking at it. “I’ll be back in a jiffy. I’m going to run down to the corner store.”
Mack came back grinning with a quarter of a pound of bacon. “We gotta break in that new pan with something better than just eggs, but I’m still not sure about these combination sandwiches.”
Mack looked skeptical as Susie spread mayo on two pieces of toast and catsup on the others. She layered pickles, eggs, bacon, tomato slices, and cheese. With a flourish she cut the sandwiches in half.
“Ta da!” She looked up at him with a smile, and for the hundredth time he admired the freckles on her upturned nose. “Happy first anniversary, my love!”
His words were muffled in her hair. “I wish I could take you on a cruise around the world.”
She laughed. “I don’t think the baby would like a cruise. And besides, I don’t need anything but you to be happy; really, I don’t. You’re all I want, forever.”
The worried frown left his boyish face and there was never a happier anniversary celebration than the one they had with combination sandwiches.
And now, forty-five years later, Mack stood with the same frying pan in his hand. He set it down, opened the refrigerator and started pulling out whatever he could find, the four eggs they had left, two slices of cheese, a jar of sweet pickles, a few tomato slices, ketchup, and mayonnaise. Then he opened a plastic bag Susie hadn’t noticed and pulled out a half pound of bacon.
“What should I do first, fry the bacon or toast the bread?” Mack asked.
“There’s not enough time to fry bacon before you have to go back to work, and why did you buy it? It’s ridiculously expensive these days!”
“I took the rest of the day off. And I bought bacon because I figured a day like today deserves steak, but I couldn’t afford that.”
He grinned as Susie looked puzzled, then gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh, Mack! Our forty-fifth anniversary! How could I have forgotten? I’m so sorry I’ve been so grouchy lately. I really do love you!”
He took her hands, pulled her from the chair, and began to hum, “You are my sunshine.”
As they danced around the kitchen Susie looked up at him with a smile, and for the thousandth time he admired the freckles on her upturned nose.
“Happy anniversary, my love,” she said.
His words were muffled in her hair. “I still wish I could take you on a cruise around the world.”
She laughed. “I’d rather get the air conditioner fixed. But it’s okay if we can’t. I don’t need anything but you to be happy; really, I don’t. You’re all I want, forever.”
Eating lunch in the living room a few minutes later and enjoying an old movie, they agreed the combination sandwiches were the best they’d ever had, and they’d eaten many over the years. There’s something about being creative with whatever you can find in the refrigerator, even if it’s not a lot. And that begs a life parable dear reader, but one you’ll have to decipher for yourself.
The end.
***
These blogs are now available in book form on Amazon:
Backroad Ramblings Volume One: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Two: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Three: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Four: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
