Free Must Love Sandwiches by Janel Gradowski

beside the refrigerator. Daisy had given her the painting for Christmas. The spooky image was rendered in clear, glow-in-the-dark paint which wasn’t visible on the abstract painting in the light. At first the effect gave her the creeps, but now staring at the diaphanous woman was a kind of ritual. She often fell asleep while looking at it, like a child turning to a night light for comfort.
    Her cell phone sprang to life. It vibrated and skittered across the night stand like a giant water bug. She flipped it over to look at the display. Her chest muscles contracted, forcing all of the air out of her lungs. It was her mother.
    “Mom, do you realize what time it is? Why are you calling me in the middle of the night? What’s wrong?” The questions tumbled out of her mouth while her mind became a tornado of scenarios, none of them good. Her mother hardly ever bothered to call during the daytime. The after midnight attempt at communication was bound to be trouble.
    “Emma, honey? I’m sorry I woke you up. I just didn’t know who else to call. Your momma is in a bit of a pickle.”
    Her mother was the queen of poor judgment and bad decisions. Situations that would freak most people out, sending them running or into hiding, didn’t even affect her anymore. It was like she had become immune to sketchiness. Something truly awful must have happened to bring on the late night admission. “What? What’s going on? Are you hurt?”
    “No…no. The only thing that’s hurt is what little pride I have left. I’m at a hotel in Grantsburg. My date left two hours ago to get a pack of cigarettes and he hasn’t come back. I’m stuck here because I left my car back at a bar in Flint. It should only take you about half an hour to get here, I think. Could you come save your stupid, old momma, sweetie?”
    Abandoned at a cheap hotel in the middle of nowhere after a one-night stand. This was a new low for her. Maybe she would learn a lesson if she had to pay for a long cab ride back to her car, but she probably didn’t have enough money to do that. Then she’d end up calling again, asking to borrow money. Emma switched the lamp on and searched for a notepad and pen in the nightstand’s drawer. It would be easier on both of them to just take her back to her car instead of trying to teach her a lesson. She had certainly never learned how to attract decent men, even after hundreds of failed attempts. “What is the hotel’s address? I need to get dressed and put some gas in my car, so give me an hour or so to get there.”
    She scribbled down the information and then hung up, before her mother could say anything else. She couldn’t listen to the pathetic excuses and explanations that were sure to come. They always did.
    Half an hour later she was driving on I-75, heading north. The little car was old and faded, but more trustworthy than her mother. The gas tank was almost full after a quick stop at the gas station near the freeway entrance ramp. A giant, insulated cup filled with sugary coffee sat in the cup holder. The emotionless female voice of a GPS app called out directions from her phone, “In twenty miles take exit 25.”
    Emma’s eyes darted back and forth, checking the perimeter of her headlight beams for the reflection of animal eyes. The headlights from an oncoming car in the other lanes appeared as she rounded a curve. A jolt of pain sizzled behind her eyes. It would be a miracle if she made it through the night without wrecking her car or developing a migraine. She chugged the coffee, hoping the caffeine would chase away the fledgling headache.
    The coffee was gone by the time she pulled into the gravel parking lot of the small hotel. It wasn’t the kind of place that catered to business travelers, so there were no other cars around on the early Thursday morning. She parked in front of the only door with the porch light on. Tiny moths swarmed around the bare, white bulb. Emma got out of the car and stretched her arms