You Never Know What Might Pop Up

Mild swearing, suggestion of adultery

Everybody wanted toast this morning! I am worn out.

Love these guys a lot really but, geez, my insides are still burning. Plus, Jason was so rambunctious about getting his English muffin out when it didn’t pop up he actually knocked me over. Wish I could see if I have a dent now. I do feel a bit bruised.

And worst, nobody had time to clean my tray. How would you like to go all day with crumbs on your bottom???

At least now I can rest, hopefully till tomorrow morning. Nobody with bright ideas about eggs or chili for dinner. Don’t know why they like toast with chili, but who can figure out humans.

Take Mike for instance. Now understand, the usual weekday starts with the whole family having breakfast. Mike and Janet are up first and get coffee going, set out various morning type foods. Then Jason, Rory, and Darla come down already dressed for school. After they all leave I have the day pretty much to myself until dinner time when the whole family is back in the fold.

The big shaggy dog Rufus does sometimes stop by to check the counter around me for any bits that might have escaped the cloth. Poor thing learned early on not to let his nose touch me if I’d recently been on. That was quite the yelp but he never let it happen again. Once he’s finished his inspection it’s out the doggie door and into the yard for the day, meaning no more visits for me.

There are other appliances of course. We can hear each other and the humans but they can’t hear us. I have tried to talk to some of those other guys but they’re kind of standoffish. Apparently seniority counts for nothing. You see I’ve served three generations of this family. And, yeah, I had to have a couple of minor surgeries over my 50 years, but I keep on turning out perfect golden toast and that should earn some respect.

But no. In fact they call me the oldster instead of the toaster. Ask me what it was like in George Washington’s kitchen.

With all their fancy touch screens and sculptured designs and even internet connections they think they’re so much better than me because I’m just an old fashioned 4-slot Toastmaster. When they do say anything to me it’s usually about when am I going to give my speech. Don’t even know what they’re talking about, but I guess they find that funny because there’s a big round of beeps and dings and assorted musical notes that sound like mockery.

Sorry for the whining, back to Mike. And what I was referring to when I said I can’t figure out humans.

He is like the model husband, model dad. So loving, always engaged in what they’re doing, helping out, giving advice, playing games. Of course there are times when no one else is around that Mike and Janet fight but it never seems to last. I think he really likes it when friends or relatives are here so he can brag about his family.

So then, here’s the thing. Why doesn’t he want to tell this new lady about them as they’re sitting down at the table? Tell her everything about Janet and the kids that makes him so proud of them.

It was about an hour ago that I heard the garage door go up, waking me from my afternoon nap, and then Mike and this pretty lady came on into the kitchen. I took to her the moment she laid her beautiful hands on me. Said she was into vintage items and I was a perfect example.

As always at the sound of the garage door, Rufus came bounding through the doggie door and down the hall. The pretty lady made a big fuss over him, ear scratches and all, and of course it helped that she had a bag of doggie treats in her purse, which as always he took gently then gulped like he was never going to eat again. She then became the goofy mutt’s instant best friend. I tried not to be jealous.

Mike looked at her funny and asked how she just happened to have dog treats in her purse. “Oh,” she said, “as a matter of fact I have this too,” and she drew a coiled leash and collar from her bag. A grin from Mike, “Kinky.” “No, silly, everybody in our rescue group is always prepared to capture strays and take them to a safe place until they can be reunited with an owner or fostered or adopted.”

“Oh, well, that’s great.”

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t like kinky.” And with that she ran both of her hands down his arms.

She cast yet another admiring glance at me as they left the room and disappeared into the back of the house. Rufus followed them, I heard a bark, and then pretty lady’s sweet voice, “OK, just a couple more.” I swore I could actually hear him crunching and then the bang of the doggie door.

And in short order there were some distinctly different noises. Giggles and squeals and stuff. Don’t know what they were doing but it sure sounded like fun. Well, they were doing their thing, dog back in the yard, so I snoozed.

I was awakened by talk as Mike and the pretty lady came back into the kitchen. He’s was saying, “You know we, I . . .” And she replies, “No, I understand, your wife and all.” She stopped then, gave me a long look. “You know what, Mike, this may sound weird but I would just love to try the toaster, so hard to believe a vintage piece like that is still working.”

Mike glanced at the clock and I wondered if it was because the kids would be home before long and he was looking forward to showing them off to his new friend. But what he says is, “Oh, ummm, it really doesn't work all that well, so old you know, ummm, you can never tell when it’s going to burn the bread or just quit before the toast is even done.”

What!!!

“Oh, please,” she’s said, “it wouldn’t take long. And anyway you don’t have another appointment until four o’clock. I already called in and told the other guys I was taking the afternoon off.”

When she said the other guys, I guessed from what I’d heard Mike tell Janet that this was a reference to the other small business people who along with Mike rented individual offices in a large building. I wondered though how she knows them. 

“OK, let me get it going right away.”

“And you know what, if you have it Mike, a nice cup of tea to go with it.”

His adam’s apple did a quick up and down, but he hustled out some mugs and tea bags, spinning to the faucet, and then the nuker. Then to me, and do I even need to say it – I turned on my A game. Meanwhile the tea was done, the mugs on the table.

Ha! I delivered two absolutely beautiful amber slices, though Mike took no time to admire them, pretty much ripping them out of my wire racks and onto the little plates and onto the table. The pretty lady said, “Ummm, maybe some butter?” He almost overturned his chair to sprint to the fridge and back. What the heck was his big hurry?

Anyway, so that’s where we are now. Mike and the pretty lady sitting at the table with tea and – buttered! – toast.

“You know,” she says, “I think it’s so touching the way you keep some mementos from your late wife.” Wait – what – late??? You mean something happened to Janet just since this morning?

Noooooo.

“And the beautiful quilt you spread on the bed. Did she make it?”

“Yes, no, I don’t know, maybe.” Why is he acting so weird? See what I mean about trying to figure out humans?

He gulps his toast and coffee and, though she hasn’t finished, says, “OK, let’s get you back to your car and me to my office to get ready for my meeting.” Her last piece of toast is barely picked up when he whisks all their dishes to the sink, gives them a quick wash, replaces them in the cabinet and is ushering her to the door.

“Wait, wait, I need my purse.” He flies down the hall, back with the purse. “And my jacket.” Another two-way dash, and off they go.

No more than ten minutes later the kids come in and right on cue Rufus barrels through the doggie door and down the hall to greet them, tail going a mile a minute. Then, as the always-hungry pooch knows, it’s snack time. Jason and Marla dig into the cookie jar, but Rory is heading towards me with a pop pastry. “Oh, oh,” he says. “the toaster is warm and, look, whoever used the toaster last this morning left it plugged in. If there’s something wrong with it now mom is going to have someone’s head. She loves the toaster.”

With everybody munching away to their heart’s content, I can rest again and just enjoy watching this happy family. The time glides by and then Janet is home {happy day, not dead, wonder why the pretty lady said that}, shortly followed by Mike. And, of course, Rufus, looking for his dinner. They all talk about the day they had, with the lively chatter continuing right to the dinner table. But Mike doesn’t mention the pretty lady. Hmmmm.

After dinner I hear the back door close and I’m guessing the kids and the dog are playing in the yard. Mike and Janet settle in the living room. When it’s just about dark the kids come back in, trooping through the kitchen to join their parents.

Oddly Rufus isn’t with them. But then a few minutes later I hear him clomping down the hall. Tail whipping, he heads into the living room with a plastic bag in his mouth. I can see through the archway as he takes it to one then the other prancing all the time. Finally Janet takes it from him, a bag of dog treats. Mike looks a little pale.

“Where the heck did that come from? This isn’t the kind I buy.”

Mike brightens a little. “Oh, I thought Rufus might like something different for a change.”

“But why would it be back there somewhere?”

“Oh, you know how the big galoot can take things off the counter, probably carried it to our be . . . ahhh, out into the yard.”

Suddenly I see an odd look on Janet’s face. She lifts the bag to her nose. “Kids,” she says, “go and start on your homework.” Before they can protest, “Now.”

Meanwhile Rufus barks at her. Think the translation is, Stop all the yammering and give me some damn treats. “And take Rufus with you.”

“There’s a perfumy aroma coming from the bag, Mike. And it’s not a scent I wear.”

Silence.

 “Mike, do you have something to tell me?” Still he says nothing.

Now the other appliances are whispering among themselves. And then actually address me. You’re her favorite, any idea what she’s talking about? Nuts, my one chance and I have no idea.

“Mike?”

Silence.

“Mike, was there a woman here?”

Wait, yes, I do have an idea. It’s the pretty lady, I tell them. I don’t think Janet likes him having fun with her.

Oh, that must be it, thank you, they say. Some respect at last.

“Who was it Mike?”

 “Ashley.” Very small voice.

“Ashley? The one who does the secretarial work for all the businesses in your building?”

“Yes.” Now more like a squeak.

“And she doesn’t care you have a wife?”

“She thinks you’re, ummm . . . dead.” Still squeaking.

“Oh good God.”

Now finding his voice a bit more. “Janet, I know this was all so wrong, but I promise it was just this once. And it wasn’t my fault.”

“Pardon?”

“OK . . . I took her to lunch as a thank you for putting a rush on some documents I needed right away. We had a couple of glasses of wine. We talked about different stuff, mostly work. But she did mention she collects vintage items and I told her about the toaster.” The words are now tumbling out but she interrupts him.

“My toaster!!!” Hooray, she really wants me all to herself, I think my elements just turned on a little.

“Yes, and then she said she’d like to see it, so I said no problem, and next thing you know we were in the car and heading here, and when we got here she played with Rufus and gave him treats, she’s into rescuing dogs so keeps treats in her purse, a leash and collar too, and somehow the bag of treats got out of her purse I guess, uh, back there, but before that she'd gotten all gushy about the toaster – Yes! your toaster! – and then she got kind of gushy with me, rubbing my arms for cripe's sake, we’d both had wine as I said and that didn't help, and well what was I supposed to do when she threw herself at me like that???”

“Really, Mike?”

“I vow to you, it will never, ever, happen again. I’ll put my hand on the Bible." Yikes, is that a grin he's trying to show as he's saying, "Or maybe even on the toaster.”

“Can it be on at the time?”

“But listen, there’s something else.”

“You mean it gets worse?”

“Well, that depends on your point of view. Crap, I can’t believe confessing to this is more difficult than admitting there was a woman here . . ."

"Waiting."

"I, uh, couldn’t, uh, couldn't, uh, uh, perform.”

“Well, that’s something I know you would not say if it weren’t true. I guess I’m a tiny bit relieved, but still you brought a woman here and intended to, uh, perform.”

Geez, does it look now like she almost smiled?

“I’ve still got a lot to think about. But if there is a chance we can get past this, here’s what I do know right now. If anything like this ever did happen again, that would be it Mike, I mean it, you would be . . . “

And then with all the power I could muster I bellowed “TOAST!"

Wow! There’s an absolute concert of beeps and dings and those musical notes but not like before, more like – applause.

Too bad Mike and Janet couldn’t hear any of it. But hey, what’s this, both are looking toward the kitchen with baffled expressions. And the kids come running out asking what the noise was. And Rufus barks his own chorus.

Oh my gosh!!!

They all come into the kitchen but everything is quiet.

Mike says, “Must have been some kind of electrical glitch, but good Lord it sounded for all the world like it gave me a stark warning. Not that I needed one.”

Janet says, “And gave me a rousing cheer. Which I did need.”

“Maybe the two sides are pushing us toward a new start to the conversation? Janet?”

“Kids, go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Well I wasn’t expecting that all-appliance interruption – that the humans could hear! But maybe it shifted the dynamic a bit, created a little hope that they can eventually be my happy family once again.

I think the two channels on my front for the up/down levers just curled into a smile.

-- end --