“Okay!” she said brightly, and walked back to the front, slapping her laptop shut with relish.
As she swung open the door to Keith’s, she let the sweet smell of split crust cheddar bread waft around her head. The tang of peppers mixed with sweet pepperoni overpowered her senses. She barely saw Keith coming, a clean white apron tied around his waist.
“Elly! To what do I owe the pleasure? Let me guess – a large Italian Mama sandwich, with oil and extra cheese and cucumbers? Side of potato salad?”
Elly groaned. “That is truly sad. I mean, a new low. You know, the Chinese food lady knows my order. I really need to stop eating, like forever.” She glanced down at her curvy figure.
“Naw,” said Keith, busying himself behind the counter, “You know, some guys LIKE curves. You’re perfect the way you are. Not unlike this sandwich.” He gave it a liberal squirt of oil and began wrapping it up. “So, are you and that guy that lives above this place…dating?”
Elly smiled at the thought of Isaac. The night she had gone over to be his muse had ended up with lots of kissing on his balcony. The stars overhead, his hands on her waist, his lips…his delicious berry lips…
“ELLY!”
“Huh?” Elly jerked back to attention. “Yeah?”
Keith stood looking at her, a scoop of potato salad in his hand. “Do you want potato salad?”
“Oh, um, yes – I’m so sorry.”
Keith grimaced. “That good, huh?”
Elly tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s good. It’s new. I’m not sure what we are, but it’s wonderful. He’s incredibly gifted. And his hair…” Keith looked like he was about to vomit. Elly reminded herself that he was not Kim. She couldn’t help it. There was something so easy going about Keith that made her want to put on her pjs and dish with him for hours. “Uh yeah, he has nice hair. We’re taking it slow. So far, so good. I haven’t dated anyone…since, well, since my ex-husband cheated on me.”
Keith nodded furiously as he chopped onions. “I understand that. It can be hard to move on.”
Elly ran her fingers down the counter. “I’m not really sure about how to talk about that with him. It seems like an intense subject.”
Keith packed her sandwich into the bag and tied it into a violent knot. “If he’s as great as you say he is, he will understand and care about you all the more.”
Elly blushed. “Thanks, Keith. You only say that because I buy so many sandwiches from you. If you didn’t say that, I would have to shower the St. Louis Deli with love.”
Keith grabbed his heart and pretended to faint. “You wouldn’t! That would be cheating on me. His meats are processed! And he only has one flavor of bread and low-fat mayonnaise. What kind of tool uses low-fat mayonnaise?” He seemed to be honestly offended. “Plus, who else is going to give you extra cheese just because you’re so cute?”
Elly flicked his shoulder. “Everyone gives me stuff because I’m so cute. You just don’t realize it.”
Keith smiled and handed her the sandwich. “It’s on the house today. Oh, and tell your guitar playing BOY-friend that he’s late on the rent.” Elly groaned as she walked out the door, swinging her sandwich.
Later that afternoon, Elly wiped down the glass table, eliminating the few crumbs of evidence that there ever was a sandwich. After that was done, she spent twenty minutes re-cutting and taping the ends of rolls of satin ribbon that hung on the wall, and wiped down the cooler. She flipped the sign to closed and turned out the lights. Gathering up lose stems here and there for her tiny bathroom vase, she headed upstairs.
As soon as she opened the door, she knew something was wrong. The stench was overwhelming, a punch to the sense. Puddles of brown fluid trailed about the room. The corner of the couch was ripped open, and Elly noticed vomit in the corner. She stepped inside.
“Cadbury?”
Nothing.
“Honey, I’m home…C’mere Cadbury.”
From the bathroom she heard a small cry. Throwing down her bag, she raced to him, carefully avoiding the diarrhea trail down the hallway. Cadbury was lying sideways across the bathroom rug, his stomach heaving violently. His eyes were squeezed shut in pain and his body was shaking.
“Cadbury! Oh NO!”
Elly knelt beside him, lowering her face to his. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at Elly, with a palpable relief.
“We’ll get you help. Oh, sweetie.” Elly stood up. Call the vet. Immediately. She told herself not to call 911, even though she was tempted to. She ran to her bag and found her cell phone.
“Ladue Vet Clinic.”
“Yes, hello. My dog Cadbury is having some sort of seizure.”
“What kind of dog is it?”
“An Old English Sheepdog”
“And how old is he?”
“Two and a half years.”
“And he is having what symptoms?”
Elly looked over at Cadbury. The desperate look in his eyes broke her heart.