Sacrifice Fly by Tim O'Mara

thought maybe…” He shook his head and walked away to
     get our drinks.
    “Have you two been close long?” I asked.
    “I designed his menu and Web page,” Rachel explained. “And he’s crazy about me. So,
     why do you look like death?”
    “It’s a shame you left the greeting-card business, Rachel.”
    “I didn’t leave. I’m management now.”
    “How’s that going?”
    “About what I expected. More money, more headaches. Kenny was too cheap to fill my
     old position, so I’m doing my new job and training a series of bimbos to do research.”
     She raised her hand to cut me off. “Yes, big brother, greeting-card companies do research.
     It’s not all ‘Sorry your dog died. Here’s a card.’”
    “Did you write that one?”
    “Now,” she said, ignoring me, “he wants me to go to L.A. this week with one of his
     floozies for the annual trade show. Easier if I just killed the chick. And you?”
    “Teaching’s teaching,” I said. “The year’s almost over, so it’s a lot of keeping the
     kids focused until graduation and getting the end-of-the-year bullshit done.”
    “That’s not all, though.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Before she could answer, Jimmy came over with a tray that held two small, porcelain
     cups that looked like they came out of a five-year-old’s tea set. He placed the cups
     in front of us and poured sake into both. “You ready to order now?” he asked.
    I reached for the menu. Rachel put her hand on mine and turned to Jimmy. “Two combination
     platters. Sushi and sashimi.” To me, she added, “I’ll explain the difference.”
    “Very good, Miss Rachel,” Jimmy said.
    “I know you, Ray,” Rachel said after Jimmy left. “You’ll look at the menu for ten
     minutes, get pissed off, and then ask for my opinion. I just wanted to save us some
     time.” She raised her glass. We clinked and drank. “Okay?”
    “Yeah,” I said. “I’d rather have a beer, though.”
    “That’s what makes these nights so special. I take you to new and exciting places,
     where you get to experience new and exciting tastes. You take me to get a hamburger.”
    “I took you to the Polish place on Bedford Avenue last month.”
    “Where I had the fabulous roast pork and pickled beets and you had a burger.”
    “They make a good burger.”
    “You’re getting predictable in your old age, Ray. Life is more than just Budweiser
     and Yankee games.” She took another sip. “You call Mom back?”
    “Not yet, but that didn’t stop her from leaving a five-minute message on my machine
     last night. Good news about Cousin Patty.”
    “Aunt Evelyn six, Mom zero. You know she’s waiting to hear from you about the memorial
     service, right?”
    “Speaking of future grandchildren,” I said, changing the subject, “you still seeing
     that guy? Alan?”
    “Alex,” she corrected me. “No.”
    “What happened? I thought things were going well.”
    “For six weeks. We’re going out less than two months, and he brings up the ‘M’ word.”
    “Marriage?”
    “Money. As in, ‘Can I borrow some?’”
    I almost spit out my sake. “You’re kidding me.”
    “I wish. Seems he and some college buddies have this great idea for a new business,
     and all he needs is five thousand dollars to get in. What are you smiling about?”
    “You’re getting better,” I said.
    “At what?”
    “Two years ago you’d have been out five thousand dollars.”
    “I wasn’t that bad,” she said.
    “You were close. Now you just need to take a little more time before bringing them
     home to meet Mom.”
    “Maybe if you brought someone home once in a while…”
    “I’m enjoying this time of celibacy.”
    “Celibacy indicates a conscious choice, Ray. You … are not getting laid.”
    “Let’s not argue semantics, Rache.”
    “Because you’d lose?”
    “Because I’d like to have a nice dinner. Even if it is raw fish and warm rice wine.”
    Of which I took another sip as Jimmy came back to our