Read Online The Do-Over by Kathy Dunnehoff - Free Book Online Page B

changes, the realizations, the end, had only taken a couple of days. Well, some people required more. She needed more because… “They’d all been free-spirits in college, remember? They’d done whatever they wanted when they were younger. I took elementary ed. classes and gave campus tours. I wore a university sweatshirt, with that god-awful Peter Pan collar and told incoming freshmen, who after twenty-four hours on campus had already had more fun than I’ve had in my whole life, about the penalties of drinking in the dorms.”
    Dan scowled. She smirked at him. He knew she was right. He’d seen her do the tours, for God’s sake. She didn’t need to tell him what a model citizen she’d been, but he wasn’t going to concede a damn thing. “It’s going to take me a month. A whole month. I’ve lived in captivity for nearly forty years.”
    She walked over to the bed where her new old clothes waited. She grabbed a peach floral dress and the sandals with plastic butterflies, and headed toward the bathroom. She needed rhinestone sunglasses. She’d have to pick up a pair after lunch.
    She reached for the bathroom door and only cringed a little when the Temptations began to sing about a woman wanting to leave. She hoped it wouldn’t trigger any more of Dan’s pointing and you’re having an affair talk. At least she didn’t need to worry about Dan singing along with Ain’t to Proud to Beg . It wasn’t grammatically correct.
     
    “Is the trolley okay?” The hostess paused. “It’s the only table left.” She held the long menus that promised carbohydrate nirvana.
    “Yes!” Mara felt hungry enough, and Dan looked hungry enough, to eat in the alley if they had to. She followed the hostess because whatever a trolley table was, she was taking it. But when they rounded the corner she saw that it was an actual trolley and not even an Italian one. She was pretty sure Italy had trolleys, but this was a Canadian one, and it sat smack dab in the middle of the Pasta Emporium, all red and lit up with hundreds of twinkle lights. Well, she’d never eaten on one of those before.
    She let the hostess lead the way up the rubber treads of the steps to set two menus down on one of the slim tables flanked by worn wooden bench seats. Mara sat and flipped open the menu before she realized Dan hadn’t joined her. She looked toward the stairs and saw his head appear as he stepped onto the bottom rung. More of him emerged until he stood near the steering wheel, its leather worn from years of driving. Of course, a trolley was too weird for Dan. It was lit up. Everyone in the restaurant could see them eat. She watched his discomfort and could hear his voice in her head. It’s a trolley , Janie. She would have felt the same way even the day before, but she didn’t anymore. She was even willing to sit in the driver’s seat and scarf down linguine with a giant serving spoon.
    Dan slowly sat down across from her and stared at his unopened menu. He looked… what? Homeless maybe. Mara felt the unwelcome pain of it. She’d driven Dan to wrinkled clothing, disorientation, and emotional turmoil. 
    She studied his face. He was actually growing a beard. His hair stuck up, and she felt guilt, like the heaviest edge of responsibility, land on her and squish her flat. My god, she didn’t even know where he’d slept. He might actually be homeless. “Where are you staying, Dan?” But part of her didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to know the specifics of his torture.
    Dan picked up his menu but seemed too tired to open it. “In the car.”
    “You slept in the car?” God, she was horrid. She was a terrible, selfish person who was cruel to a man who’d never done anything wrong.
    Dan turned his head to the side, seemed to concentrate more as he watched her.
    She focused on the menu and tried to erase the guilty face she knew he’d spotted. Maybe she could distract him. He was smart, but his blood sugar was low. “ Hmmm ,