The Lottery Tickets
Irene stared at the pile of lottery tickets on the table and groaned. Bob was going to kill her. She should have bought the steaks for the dinner with his boss. But look what she'd done. She'd purchased lottery tickets -- again.
Oh, yeah! Her husband was going to be furious.
He'd warned her the last time she spent grocery money on lottery tickets that if she did it again, they'd be heading for a divorce court. The time before that, he offered to do all the grocery shopping. And the time before that...
Now, he wanted her to get help. Help for what? Buying lottery tickets was not some disease.
If she won, why they could get that new car, buy a new house, plan the baby she wanted so desperately.
He ought to have arranged to pay for the steaks himself but, all week, he'd been in such a rush. With the big promotion up for grabs, he spent his time on a special report for his boss.
This morning, when he'd given her the money, he made her promise. No lottery tickets!
Well, the deed was done. She'd have to think of something else for dinner tonight. There was hamburger in the freezer. She did a satisfactory meat loaf. His boss might like meat loaf instead of steak.
Oh, yeah! Little chance of that!
As she dug in the freezer for the meat, she planned the rest of the menu. Twice-baked potatoes would dress the dinner up a bit and she had salad makings. Biscuits! Her grandmother had taught her how to make good biscuits. And, maybe, just maybe, with his boss at their table, Bob wouldn't throw her out, like he promised to do.
Two hours later, as the garage door slammed, she cringed. Time to face the music. Thank heavens the boss was due in any minute now.
"Got the grill started," Bob said as he came through the door.
"We're - ah - we're not having steak."
"No steaks? You mean the butcher didn't have any steaks. Why didn't you go... Oh, Irene you didn't."
The look on his face almost crushed her. He'd counted on showing his boss how well he was doing. She knew how much that promotion meant to him. The other men trying for the job had already entertained the boss. Bob said they'd served first-class meals - steak, lobster, shrimp. Bob could have served steak too, but she'd spent the money on those damned lottery tickets.
She'd hurt her husband, badly this time. And she did want to save her marriage. What was wrong with her? She couldn't keep destroying their lives like this. Perhaps she did need help. She could finally admit it. Those lottery tickets were ruining her life. She had to find a way to do without.
"I'll see that therapist next week," she mumbled.
"This week if you still want me to stay here," he said and stalked out of the kitchen.
A half hour later four people sat at the dining room table. After they ate the salad, Irene present the meat loaf, gravy and the twice baked potatoes. Golden-brown biscuits and butter patties now rested on a bread plate at each place setting and more biscuits held place of honor beside her.
"Well, damn," the boss shouted. "Meat loaf! And real biscuits. Bob," he turned to him. "Do you know how much I dreaded another undercooked or overcooked steak? Or worse yet, some fish? I hate fish." He waved at his wife seated to his left. "Damn! Would you look at this, Honey? Biscuits like my mother used to make."
The boss cleared his throat.
"You've got a great little woman there. You come see me tomorrow. Anybody who knows how to feed a country boy his favorites, without a lot of fuss, is the man for this promotion. Now, let's eat. No point in ruining the first good meal I've had in a week."
Copyright © 2007
Allison Knight
