He started rubbing her leg. Even though it had been several weeks, she had no interest in sex that night but didn’t want to get into a squabble with him. Instead, she hopped out of bed. “I have an idea.” She quickly moved toward the kitchen. “Let’s have lunch now!”

He groaned. “Are you serious? It’s almost midnight.”

“That’s why they call it a midnight snack. Come on!”

She pulled out the packaged cold cuts, mayonnaise for him and mustard for her, lettuce, and a loaf of white bread.

He shuffled in a few minutes later. “You really are serious.”

She pulled out a can of beer and poured it in a glass and handed it to him. He pulled out a chair and sat at the dining-room table. “You’re in quite a mood tonight.”

“I took a hot bath. It helped me unwind. I should do it more often.” She brought the plates of sandwiches to the table, skipping the bologna on hers. “So, how was Ringo’s tonight?”

“The usual. I won ten bucks shooting pool. That Larry Norton thinks he’s Minnesota Fats, and I kick his butt every time.”

“Maybe you should let him win once in a while. Then he’ll have more confidence and raise the ante,” she said with a devilish grin.

“Boy, you really are in some kind of mood. I like it.” He chomped down on his sandwich, squirting mayo out of the sides and all over his hands. His demeanor suddenly became dark. “Damn. Can you please go easy on this stuff?”

“Sorry, hon. Here, let me take care of that.” Tori got up and grabbed a paper towel, reached in the fridge, and pulled out another beer. He had downed half of the first one before his first bite. She was determined to help him pass out. She wasn’t in the mood for anything except peace and quiet. She topped off his glass and handed him the paper towel. His attitude shifted back to being less surly.

“Got enough for tomorrow?” He spoke with a mouthful of food. She tried not to look at him gnashing his teeth on the artery-clogging combination.

“Yes. I can make you two sandwiches if you’d like.” She was still being perky. Not for his sake, but for her own sanity. “And I’ll even throw in a few pickles. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good to me.” He wiped his mouth, crumpled the napkin, and tossed it onto the plate. He pushed back his chair and guzzled the rest of the beer, draining what was left in the can. “I’m bushed.”

Mission accomplished, Tori thought to herself. “Go on to bed. I’m going to clean up in here.”

Without a word, he stood and shuffled toward the bedroom. If she had played it right, he would be snoring in less than ten minutes.