The Fatal Funnel Cake by Livia J. Washburn

pressure doesn’t bother me.”
    â€œI can understand that,” Phyllis said. “You’ve coached in a lot of basketball games that came right down to the last shot, haven’t you?”
    â€œWell, that’s true.” Sam grew uncharacteristically solemn. “But when you’ve spent months in a hospital watchin’ somebody you love slip away, you learn that most things folks get all worked up about don’t really mean a whole heck of a lot after all.”
    She put a hand on his arm and nodded. “Yes, I know what you mean,” she told him. Like the others in their little circle, they had each lost a spouse, and the pain of that loss was something they would live with every day for the rest of their lives. To try to lighten the mood a little, she went on, “If there’s anything I can do to help you with the contest, all you have to do is let me know.”
    â€œI appreciate that, but I reckon just havin’ you there to root for me will be plenty.”
    â€œI’ll certainly do that,” Phyllis promised. She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.
    From the kitchen doorway, Peggy said, “I knew it! I knew that tall drink of water had to be smooching with at least one of you. Better keep an eye on him, Phyllis. He looks like a lounge lizard to me.”
    Phyllis was a little embarrassed, but Sam burst out laughing. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but as far as I remember, lounge lizard has never been one of ’em!”
    â€œAll I’m saying is that one man living in a house with three women . . . well, that’s a recipe for hanky-panky,” Peggy insisted.
    Phyllis said, “It certainly is not. Not when the man is an absolute gentleman like Sam.”
    â€œYeah, I’m chivalrous as all get-out,” he said, nodding.
    â€œIt’s none of my business,” Peggy said with her eyes sparkling mischievously. “You just go on with what you were doing, Lothario. Don’t mind me.”
    â€œI was, uh, gettin’ some coffee.”
    â€œUh-huh. Coffee.”
    â€œOh, goodness gracious,” Phyllis said. She knew Peggy was just joshing, so she wasn’t really offended by the comments, but she was starting to get slightly annoyed. “Talk about making something out of nothing. I just gave Sam an affectionate peck on the cheek; that’s all.”
    â€œAnd that’s all you’ve ever done?” Peggy wanted to know.
    â€œWell . . . I didn’t say that.” Phyllis felt her face growing warm as she blushed. Somebody her age shouldn’t be doing that, she told herself sternly.
    â€œI’ll get out of your way,” Peggy went on, backing out of the doorway.
    â€œThere’s nothing to get out of the way of,” Phyllis insisted.
    Sam lifted his coffee cup and said, “Think I’ll go upstairs and check my e-mail.”
    â€œFine.” Left alone in the kitchen, Phyllis sat down at the table. A few second later, she began to chuckle.
    It was several minutes before she remembered to be worried again about her upcoming TV appearance, and she was grateful for the respite.
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    Since they had already seen all the exhibits at the fair during the past two days, there was no reason to go early today. They even ate lunch at Peggy’s house, rather than at the fair, although they ate a little early to allow themselves plenty of time to get there.
    Phyllis didn’t eat much. She wasn’t really hungry, and the last thing she wanted to do when she was nervous was to overeat.
    On the way to Fair Park, Sam glanced over at her as he drove and asked, “Doin’ all right?”
    â€œYes, I’ll be fine. I just don’t know why I agreed to do this. That’s always the way it is. Someone asks me to go somewhere or do something, and I think it sounds like it would be fun or interesting, so I say