Ketchup Popsicle - 22

Mike and Daniel were playing with his trains on the living room floor when Sandra finally arrived home. To say they were playing together would be misleading. Daniel was pushing the little blue and red trains up and down Mike’s long bumpy athletic legs while he watched a rerun of Seinfeld on the big screen TV. Mike didn’t jump up and grab his gym bag as she expected him to when she walked through the door. Instead he flicked off the TV, rolled onto his back and pulled Daniel up to balance on his bent knees. Daniel squealed in delight.
"Dada Dadada!" he cried.

"So how was work?" Mike asked casually.
Feeling a little guilty Sandra said, "It was really good, I think I’m getting the hang of it."
"I made some dinner – steak on the BBQ. You should have seen Danny eat it up." Mike was twirling Daniel in the air above him now."
"Well, I’d be careful then if I were you. Unless you want to see it come back up." She joked.
Mike put Daniel back on the floor with his trains and wooden tracks and walked over to where Sandra was standing.
"You look really good today - there’s something different about you. I don’t know what it is."

The next few weeks were absolute torture as Bobby and Jennifer had left for their trip. She imagined Jennifer tossing her birth control packet onto the tarmac as they entered the plane. In the meantime, Mr. Neason had invited Sandra to a few Agency functions where she met some pretty interesting people. One such event was held at the Museum at night. It was a catered dinner and awards evening for best advertising campaigns. Some young hotshot after drinking all the free booze he could manage had Sandra cornered near the washrooms.
"I haven’t seen you around at the parties. Where are you from?"
"I’m with the Neason agency." She replied trying to get around him and back to a less private area.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I know the Neason’s
-– bunch of arrogant bastards." He spewed. "But Mrs. Neason, what a piece of ass. Just like you."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Sandra snorted in disgust.
"Well, I can compliment you now or I can compliment you in the morning sweetheart."
"Oh, I don’t think so. Who do you think you are?" she asked.
"I’m from Vogul Advertising. My Daddy’s rich too, just like Robert’s. Yet all the babes want him. What does he have that I don’t?" Vogul boy pulled on his tuxedo shirt and spilled his drink on his shoes in the process.
"Good breath for one." Sandra mumbled.

This seemed to anger the young fiend. "Oh yeah, well his wife didn’t seem to mind my breath a few weeks ago when he was in Vancouver on business."
"What?" Sandra demanded. "What did you just say?"
"I’m just saying," the drunkard said as he sauntered away as though he had won some imaginary battle between them.
"Don’t tell me that Jennifer cheated on Bobby with that loser." Sandra thought to herself. "What is wrong with that girl?"
Just then, Mr. Neason came out of the washroom to her right. He stopped surprised to see her standing there and then offered his arm to her and they walked back into the grand room.
"You look very lovely tonight my Dear." He said.
"Thank you Mr. Neason."

"You know, I’m really glad you found us Sandy. It’s been nice having you around again. You don’t seem to want anything from anybody which is refreshing in this industry. I want you to start thinking about our office Christmas Party - or Holiday Party I guess we are to call it these days. Make it someplace nice, maybe some entertainment and dinner. Bring your husband, what did you say his name was?"
"Mike, he’s my boyfriend." Sandra blushed at how silly it sounded to be amongst grown ups and still refer to somebody as your boyfriend. But that’s just how it was for her.
"Hmm - good. Bring him along."