The Friends We Keep. Susan Mallery
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Questions for Discussion
Was it wrong to want to pee alone? Gabriella Schaefer considered the question for maybe the four hundredth time in the past couple of months. In truth, she loved everything about her life. Her husband, her five-year-old twin daughters, her pets, her house. All of it was an amazing gift. She got that. She’d been blessed. But every now and then...okay, at least once a day, she desperately wanted to be able to go to the bathroom, like a normal person. To sit down and pee. Undisturbed.
Not with someone pushing open the door to complain that she was hungry or that Kenzie had taken her doll. Not with Andrew wandering in, a pair of socks in each hand, to ask her which one was the better choice. Not with a pink-toed cat paw stretching under the door or a basset hound moaning softly on the other side, begging to be let in. Alone. Oh, to be alone for those thirty or forty seconds. To actually be able to finish and flush and wash her hands by herself.
Gabby signaled as she got into the left lane, then slowed to wait for her turn. Fifty-seven days, she reminded herself. She had fifty-seven days until the twins started kindergarten and she went back to work. Sure, it was only going to be part-time, but still. It would be magical. And what she would never share with anyone was that she was most excited about being able to pee by herself.
“What’s so funny?” Kenzie asked from the backseat. “Why are you smiling?”
“Are you telling a joke?” Kennedy asked. “Can I know?”
Because at their age, they were all about the questions, Gabby thought, keeping her gaze firmly on the road. When there was a break in the oncoming traffic, she turned into the parking lot and drove toward the end of the strip mall. There were still a couple of spots directly in front of Supper’s in the Bag. She pulled into one and turned off her SUV’s engine.
“I’m thinking funny thoughts,” she told her girls. “I don’t have any jokes.”
Kennedy wrinkled her nose. “Okay.”
Her voice was laced with disappointment. Both girls knew that what grown-ups thought was funny and what was really funny were usually two different things.
Gabby grabbed her handbag—a small cross-body with an extra-long strap—and got out of the car. She walked to the rear driver’s-side door and opened it.
“Ready?” she asked.
Both girls nodded. They were already undoing the safety straps on their car seats.
Getting them out of their seats was never the problem. Getting them into them was another matter. Despite the fact that the seats were rated for kids up to sixty pounds, both girls wanted booster seats rather than their car seats. Car seats were for babies, she’d been informed several times already. The fact that car seats were safer didn’t seem to be making an impact on the discussion.
She and Andrew were going to have to figure out a better strategy, she thought as she helped Kennedy jump to the ground. Kenzie followed. Gabby couldn’t keep having the same fight every day. Plus the arguments were taking longer and she was having to build an extra five or ten minutes into her routine just to get to appointments on time.
The problem was both girls took after their father, she thought humorously. He was a highly skilled sales executive with the gift of verbal charm. Even at five, the twins were starting to try to talk themselves out of being in trouble.
“Is Tyler going to be here?” Kennedy asked.
Gabby brushed the girl’s hair out of her eyes. Her blond bangs needed trimming. Again. “He is.”
The girls cheered. Tyler, her friend Nicole’s son, was six and soon to be in the first grade. In the eyes of two girls who were excited and a little nervous about kindergarten, Tyler was very much a man of the world. He knew things and they both adored him.
Gabby reached past the troublemaking car seats for the empty tote bags that came with her membership. The bright green bags were covered with the Supper’s in the Bag logo. Every two weeks she joined a couple of her friends for a three-hour session at Supper’s in the Bag and when she left, she would have six meals for her family. Meals that could be thrown in the oven or grilled on the barbecue. They were seasoned, portioned and ready to be prepared.
The premise of Supper’s in the Bag was simple. Each session took about three hours. In the large, industrial kitchen-like space were eight stations, each dedicated to a different entrée. By following the clearly marked instructions, you portioned meat, added spices and vegetables into recyclable containers, basically doing whatever was needed to get the meal ready for cooking.
At first Gabby had felt guilty about signing up for the service. She was a stay-at-home mom. Surely she could get her act together enough to cook for her family. And yet, she thought, handing the empty bags to her daughters and then guiding them to the store. The days slipped away from her. Fortunately for her, the owner of Supper’s in the Bag was the sister of a close friend. Telling herself that she was supporting a local business helped with the guilt.
Because Andrew was one of the good guys, he encouraged her to use the service. They went out to dinner at least once a week, so with the six meals she prepped here, that meant she only had to come up with six meals on her own.
The store was big and open, with the kitchen stations set up on the perimeter of the room. Industrial racks filled with pantry items stood in the center area. There was a cash register by the door and shelves for purses and the bags they all brought. The counters were stainless steel, as were the sinks.
To the left was a small seating area where clients could linger and talk, if they wanted. To the right was a small partitioned area that had been painted bright colors and set up with kid-sized tables and chairs. There were a few toys, lots of boxes of crayons and plenty of coloring books. Cecelia, the resident sitter, was already there. The petite, curly-haired college student grinned when she saw the twins.
“I was hoping you two would be by today,” she said, waving at them. “We’re going to have so much fun.”
“Cece!”
The twins dropped their tote bags and ran to greet the teen. There were hugs all around.
“Is Tyler coming?” Kenzie asked anxiously.
“He is. I’m sure he and his mom are running late.” Cecelia guided the girls toward a table. “Let’s start on a picture, while your mom gets going on her meals,” she said.
Gabby used the distraction to head for the aprons by the check-in area. She picked up her sheet, telling her which stations she would be using, and in what order.
Supper’s in the Bag wasn’t a unique idea. There were several businesses like it around the country. While Gabby had never been a fan of Morgan, the woman who owned the place, she had to give her kudos for wringing every dollar out of her clients.
Children were welcome for the price of five dollars per child per hour. For Gabby, that meant an extra thirty bucks, but it beat having to find a sitter herself. There were wine selections offered with each entrée, available for an extra charge. Gabby guessed the mark-up was a restaurant quality 100 percent. After-prep wine and appetizers were available, again for a cost.
Morgan’s sister, Gabby’s friend Hayley, came in early several days a week to prep the food. She did much of the dicing and slicing, the opening of spice bottles and tomato cans. Gabby happened to know that Hayley worked in exchange for meals.
While Hayley said she was getting the better end of the deal, Gabby had her doubts. No matter the situation, Morgan always seemed to come out ahead. Gabby doubted the arrangement