Letter to Fiona: Re: Sausages Mostly

20 August 2026

2004

R. Linda

AND

Fiona:

It all started innocently enough, or I thought it did. Me Mam was busy in the kitchen making sausages, special sausages because her favourite person in the whole wide world let us know (for the first time, we got a heads-up) he was coming to visit AND he wouldn't be alone, he'd have his Scottish sidekick Robbie with him. Yes, you guessed it, Fiona, after all the hints you gave him, the Weasil took the bait and arrived last night.

That's not all that arrived last night; the Dragon lady flew on her broomstick from the shores of New Jersey to alight upon our doorstep as well. And why? Because me darlin' wife shared her angst that The Weasil was arriving, and you know the Dragon is a Weasil fan as well. Tonya's reasoning was that her mother would keep Weasil busy and out of our hair. I've heard lame excuses before, so I rolled with this one out of defeat that I could stop any of this.

In between all this, you'll be happy to know that Sam and Ms. Jaio are "starting over." Isn't that sweet? Last night was a community supper, and Sam invited Ms. Jaio. After the supper, they dropped by to say hello. Yes, they did. Now Ms. Jaio has met the Weasil, but Sam has not. After all the fuss you, Fiona, made over Sam being me best new friend, Weasil couldn't let that happen, as he considers him my best friend. So you may imagine the angst that caused yours truly to have them both meet for the first time.

I was expecting one-upmanship from Weasil. But that didn't happen because the sausages me Mam made suddenly disappeared. Nobody admitted to taking them. This happened when we were all in the kitchen, introductions were happening, and me Mam suddenly piped up about missing sausages. That stopped everyone's polite chatter. 

"Sausages? Missin' Missus O?" Robbie whined at the thought.

"Well, yes, I had 'em 'ere on da counter an' wuz goin' ta serve 'em up to yas." She said, looking around for them. 

"OH NO, NOT THE SAUSAGES!" Robbie shouted in a muck sweat, looking under the table, lifting chair cushions. 

"What is wrong with you?" The Dragon asked him.

"Missus, never coom b'tween a man an' his meat an' pastry-based snacks!" 

Sam piped up and said he thought we should investigate, and I thought he had lost his mind. 

"Only another Scotsman would take sausages," Robbie said, looking suspiciously at that fellow Scotsman, who looked innocent as the day he was born, or at least, was trying to. 

"Iz bein' unfairly blamed fer being a sausage-loving Scotsman," Weasil said, holding up a finger like he was giving a political speech. 

Just then, the phone rang, and I picked it up to hear the melodic voice of me sissy Sheila on the other end. Everyone in the kitchen was talking at the same time, and Sheila could hear all this, and she somehow accused ME of being the culprit, and she wasn't even in the same country!

"Ack! This sounds like the "Sausage Roll Row" that's been goin' on! Dare be da debate over semantics gooin' on over 'ere. Everyone be debating da definition of snack food. Dey be callin' sausage rolls, "Savoury plant-based puff pastry cylinders."

"Jayus, Mary an' Joseph dare, Sheila," I said, "Thot has nothin' to do wit wot's bein' 'debated' in me very own kitchen!" 

After more back and forth, and the people in the kitchen getting louder, I hung up on me sissy. Yes, I did. Somehow it was me fault I had started the 'sausage roll debate' back home AND in me house. The phone started ringing again; I hung up, then took the receiver off the hook because I knew who it was, and I was not about to defend meself over something so stupid. 

Everything stopped when Wolfie suddenly arrived. 

"I rang the bell, but no one answered, so I let meself in and called out, but all the loud shouting, not one of you heard me." He said.

And with his handsomeness standing in the doorway, everyone forgot about the sausages. Yup, Wolfie managed to steal the spotlight without doing anything but looking good. When I think about it, I have spent years developing relationships with people only to have the handsome Wolf walk into the room and instantly become everyone's favourite. 

"I did not know you were coomin'" I was so flustered by all this and all of THEM that me Irish was making itself prominent in me speech. 

"Oh sorry," Tonya gasped, "I knew, and I meant to tell you but with all this going on . . . "

Wolfie had no idea what he walked in on. I wasn't going to apprise him of the situation because, frankly, I couldn't get a word in. They all started talking again at once. That is until me Mam took Wolfie by the arm and seated him at the head of the table and said, "Haf ya eatin', luv?" The woman was in Mam mode, and it was obvious who her favourite was.

Of course he hadn't, or said he hadn't, and she immediately forgot other people were standing in her kitchen who apparently could have starved to death without troubling her in the least. "I'll git ye sumthin'," and she started rummaging around to find something to give him. Robbie stood there in the middle of everyone, looking quite a bit put out, if not appalled, that the Wolf apparently was going to get fed when the SAUSAGES ARE STILL MISSING!

Instantly, Weasil started cosying up to Wolfie; the word food was music to Weasil's ears, and he'd think nothing of picking food off Wolfie's dish.

"EXCUSE ME!" Robbie shouted. "We still 'ave a meat-based crime tae solve, yeah?"

"There is no crime," I said.

"There's missin' sausages!"

"That does not constitute a crime," Sam put in, backing me up.

"It does in Scotland."

Sam nodded thoughtfully, "Actually, Gabe, technically if somebody took them—"

"Don't—no," I said, shaking me head.

"I was only saying—"

"Well, don't."

Sam was somehow getting dragged into the missing sausage mystery by interviewing Robbie. The Dragon, seeing the smart way Sam was questioning the Great Scot, started interrogating everyone else. Interrogating being the operative word here. Ms. Jaio was trying her hardest to be polite to the bullet-quick questions Dragon was shooting at her, something about spring rolls resembling sausage rolls. 

The Weasil had positioned himself beside Wolfie now, probably hoping some of Wolfie's handsomeness might rub off on him. It wasn't going to happen. Sam was watching the two of them; Robbie was still suspicious of Sam; the Dragon was watching Robbie; Ms. Jaio was watching everybody; and Tonya was watching me because she knew I was approximately thirty seconds away from ordering every last one of them out of me house.

Tonya, seeing this, had stepped in, thinking that apologising for everything that had happened in the world would make it all go away. It did not. 

And me? I stood there realising this is me abode, and I have abso-bloody-lutely no control over anything happening inside it. 

Meanwhile, in her dramatic apology, Tonya placed the phone back on its cradle, and it instantly started ringing. Before I could shout, NO! Tonya had picked it up, and Sheila was BACK! Just as Tonya was about to hand me the receiver, I said, "DO NOT GIVE HER TO ME."

"Hi, Sheila."

"TONYA!" I couldn't believe this.

Everybody went quiet. Even from where I was standing on the other side of the room, I could hear me sissy squawking through the phone. 

"She wants to know if you've found the sausages."

"Tell her I have left the country."

"You're standin' right 'ere," Weasil said loud enough to carry to the phone. I threw a dirty look at him, and he shouted to Tonya, "Tell 'er he said to lie he's not 'ere."

Tonya listened to Sheila and told me, "Your sister apparently told half of Northern Ireland that YOU are involved in an international sausage controversy."

I stood there with me mouth open in astonishment, and everyone else stopped what they were doing and looked at me suspiciously. Everyone but me Mam, who was busy putting together a plate of food for her favourite person, Mr. Wolf. It was then that she opened the dishwasher to put a utensil inside when she discovered, yes, you guessed it, the missing sausages! 

Seems the woman was afraid that Robbie, the Great Scot and lover of sausages, would get at them before everybody else. 

"Oooh 'dere dey be," says she. "Now I remember."

Every head turned towards her.

"Wot?" Robbie asked.

She looked at Robbie, then she looked at the dishwasher.

Robbie slowly rose from the chair cushion he had been inspecting. 

"Remember wot?" 

Mam reached into the upper tier of the empty dishwasher and pulled out a covered dish. There was silence. She removed the cover. Sausages. Robbie made a sound I have only heard previously from wounded livestock.

"THERE THEY ARE!"

Weasil stared at me Mam. "Why were dey in dere?"

She shrugged, "I hid 'em."

"You HID them?" I said.

"Well, yeah."

"Why?"

She pointed at Robbie.

"Because I knew he'd be coomin'."

The kitchen exploded.

"I KNEW IT!" Robbie shouted.

"Knew what?" I yelled. "You've spent the last half hour accusing every Scotsman in New Hampshire!"

"I wuz protectin' the sausages," me Mam said indignantly.

"FROM ME?" Robbie cried.

"Well, ya ate fourteen sausage rolls las' time ya wuz, 'ere."

"Twelve!"

"Fourteen. I counted."

"That's slander."

"It's not slander if she counted them," Sam offered.

I turned on him.

"Samuel."

He shut up.

Sheila's voice came from the phone. "WOT'S HAPPENIN'? DID DEY FIND 'EM?"

I grabbed the phone.

"YES, SHEILA! THE INTERNATIONAL SAUSAGE CRISIS HAS BEEN RESOLVED."

There was a pause.

Then she said, "So ya took 'em."

I hung up.

Again.

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved 

MEANWHILE Back At The Office

18 August 2026

2003

R. Linda:

I left Sam, our romantic wounded hero, and moved on to HER, the woman who said, "There was no engagement. There is nothing to discuss." Only said with a Chinese accent. And then, there be me, the man who be told is responsible for this (See Story #2001, Hammocks, Matchmaking, And A Misplaced Diamond, 16th August 2026).

When I saw Ms. Jaio yesterday morning, she looked anything but happy. I've never seen the "glum" side of Ms. Jaio, and I hoped that would end soon. She's all business and doesn't seem like her old self at all. No snide remarks about what Jessica Lee in Fashion is wearing, no criticism of Tony's poor choice of ties or lack of, no nothing. 

So, adventuring in, since I feel like I have nothing to lose, I said to her in passing, "Ms. Jaio, Sam seems kind of—"

"No."

"But I didn't—"

"No."

"I was only going to—"

"I know what you were going to ask."

And THAT was the entire conversation. 

I came to the conclusion that Sam is miserable. Ms. Jaio won't discuss it. Tonya concludes something must be done. No one has told ME how to solve this dilemma, yet they all seem to imply, in manner or words, that I am responsible for fixing it. This is where the trouble begins: I mapped it out in me mind. I need Ms. Jaio's side of the story. Unfortunately, she is not forthcoming. 

I saw her at her desk, looking out the window with her readers on, which told me she wasn't looking out the window; she couldn't see a damn thing. I approached carefully. 

"Ms. Jaio, can I ask you something?"

"No."

"You don't what I'm going to ask."

"Yes, I do."

That stopped me for a minute. But me being me, I decided to carry on anyway. I tried a different route.

"Sam's been kind of quiet. I saw him last night at the town meeting."

"Good."

"He doesn't seem himself."

"I'm sure he'll recover."

"He thinks—"

"Gabe." She looked at me for the first time over her glasses. She meant business.

And that was it. End of conversation. BUT I tried many times today, and she headed me off every single time. She's clever, I tell ya. But you know me, it takes a lot to deter me when I get something in me mind that needs be done. Since me first approach was going nowhere, it was time to invite the two of them somewhere they'd have to meet face-to-face.

I rang up Tonya. I told her the plan I had hatched. 

"Nothing elaborate, I'll be simply inviting both of them somewhere without telling either that the other will be there."

"You didn't do that yet, did you?"

"I thought if they just talked—"

"She specifically said she didn't want to talk about it."

"Right."

"So YOU arranged for them to talk about it."

"Well, when you put it that way, it doesn't sound like such a good idea."

"It's an approaching disaster, Gabe."

"Too late," I said softly.

Yes, I arranged a meeting. I did that. Desperate measures for desperate times, as they say. I bribed my administrative assistant to talk Ms. Jaio into going with her to the little coffee shop down the street after work.

"Tell her you need some advice."

"On what?"

"Anything. Some girl thing."

"Girl thing?"

"Oh, I don't know. Tell her you are dating a Chinese Art Student at Harvard, and would love to know how to go about that so you don't insult him somehow."

"Insult him? Really, Mr. O'Sullivan."

"No, you know what I mean, like, he is from another country, her country, and you want to make a good impression. Something like that."

"You mean lie."

It took some fast talking, but I got her to do it. Then I waited. She came back and whispered, all set. Then she asked me why she was doing this favour for me. I was counting on her not asking me, and when she didn't at first, I thought I was home free. I decided honesty was the best policy and so I told her why. Her reaction? She laughed. She thought the whole thing was a hoot. She also told me I was going about this all wrong and should leave sleeping dogs lie. Well, I can't do that. 

"Just get her to the coffee shop, and I'll take it from there," I said. She said she would, but I owed her. Of course, I do. I never get anything for free. 

"I want Friday off. This coming." She said.

"Done." 

Once this transaction was complete, I rang up Sam and gave him a song and a dance about the cemetery downtown with all the famous colonial names and GHOSTS. I said I was free early today; if he could get off work and meet me at the designated coffee shop, we could grab a bite and head out. He, of course, hasn't lost interest in this ghoulish business and said enthusiastically, "Yes, I can make it."

"Bloody hell," I said to me self-satisfied self. I was pulling this off. 

So, the time arrived; I was there ahead of everyone. Shortly after, Ms. Jaio and me assistant arrived. I acknowledged them like it was no big deal and went about stirring me cup of joe. Then right on time, Sam walked in. The first thing he saw was Ms. Jaio. I braced meself; was he going to walk out? Would she see him before he did? 

And? Nothing happened! Ms. Jaio said hello, Sam said hello. They behaved like two perfectly civilised adults. Me assistant slipped over to me table and asked me, "How's it going?" 

I couldn't hear what the two setups discussed; it looked like something utterly mundane. Maybe the weather, food, something that needs fixing? I was completely baffled. I was expecting Gone With The Wind. Instead, I get two people discussing whether it's going to rain. In hindsight, I think that's exactly what Sam needs—not a reconciliation, not an explanation, just proof life continues. Or, maybe that's what I needed.

My assistant had slipped out with my blessing. Ms. Jaio left after her conversation, but not without a glance at me and a mouthed "thank you," and I cautiously approached Sam. 

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"How do you feel"

"Fine."

"So you're over it?"

Sam looked at me.

"I didn't say that." Then after a pause, "Did she ask about me before she came?"

"No," I said.

Sam suddenly became depressed again. This threw me. Now I felt terrible that I had set him up, but not enough not to lie.

"She might've," I said, as if remembering something.

To this, Sam perked up. 

"You think so?"

For once I knew enough to keep me mouth shut. 

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved 

The Sam Side Of The Story

17 August 2026

2002

R. Linda:

Sam, Sam, Sammy boyo! The man is determined to make an art out of being depressed, BUT, and this is a big BUT - he's doing it with dignity! I saw him last night; I made up some birdbrained excuse to discuss a ghost in a cemetery I heard about (I didn't really), and I knew that would get his attention. SO, I was expecting to wind the conversation around to Saturday night's fiasco, and was ready to hear about how Sam's heart was broken, but no, that announcement didn't come. Instead, he acted like a man who suffered one of history's great romantic tragedies, while insisting nothing was wrong. 

He told me we should go to the Community Centre (the Congregational Church) because there was a meeting on "The Pit" (you remember the hullabaloo over mineral digging, same subject, new venue), and maybe we should just go. I figured, well, it was his way of getting his mind off Ms. Jaio, so OK.

When we got there, I went for refreshments; he didn't want any. I was mingling with me neighbours, but I did notice the usually talkative Sam was sitting alone. He was sighing for no apparent reason, but I suspected it was over that Chinese ex-intern of mine.

After a while, I bit the bullet and went back to Sam, who by this time was talking to single-guy Jeffrey Longworth. As I walked over, I was surprised to hear that suddenly Sammy had developed opinions about marriage, women, fate, and the unreliability of human communication. 

Jeffrey had been headshaking as if in agreement, but as soon as I joined them, he took me arrival as his chance to get away, and he did! 

I asked Sam what was wrong because he looked down in the mouth.

"Nothing."

Five minutes later, Sam said, "Gabe, you ever notice how a man can be engaged one day and completely unengaged the next without actually doing anything?"

I was gobsmacked but acted serious. In the back of me mind I be thinking, Sam needs cheering up. I wasn't sure how to proceed and made a mistake by mentioning Ms. Jaio.

"I'd rather not talk about her." He said.

"Okay."

There was a pause, and then he asked me, "Did she say anything?"

"You said you didn't want to talk about her."

"I don't," he sighed, "I just asked if she said anything."

UGH! I understood then that Sam was all at the same time, miserable, proud, curious, hopeful, and completely unwilling to admit any of those things. I was saved by the meeting being called to order. 

Tonya had arrived for that meeting, which I knew she was attending, but when she had asked me if I was going, I told her I'd be commiserating with Sam. She raised an eyebrow at me and a head nod at Sam. I smiled brightly like, "Yes, we are here."

During a break in the 'action' (it was a very heated discussion), I had a moment with Tonya.

"Since YOU are responsible for introducing them, why don't YOU fix it? I can see Sam is sad."

"Well . . . yes, I did introduce them." I reluctantly admitted.

"So can't you introduce them again?"

"They already know each other, Tonya."

"Well, it worked the first time."

"Since when do introductions come with a warranty?"

After the meeting, stragglers stayed to finish up the goody spread that the committee had put out. There was Beth MacAfee, a very pretty single woman who had just moved here. I'd seen her a few times, but Sam had never seen her. I heard him ask Jeffrey, "Who's that attractive woman over there?" I stood with me mouth gaping open as Sam made a beeline for Beth. He introduced himself, and gone was the romance is dead attitude; he was very distracted by the town newbie. 

Tonya floated on by me and said under her breath, "Sam in recovery."

For five minutes, Sam was completely himself. I couldn't help but notice after the doldrums I had been subjected to. I said, "You're feeling better."

"About what?" He said, eating a piece of CAKE.

"Ms. Jaio."

Sam immediately became melancholy again. He realised what he was eating and put it down unfinished.

"I told you I don't want to talk about that."

I realised I accidentally reminded him of his heartache. 

I drove him home, and he invited me in. He seemed to really want my company, so I went in. Sam got us both whiskies, but he was quiet, something very out of character for him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You look terrible."

"Thank you."

I knew, with that retort, that something was definitely wrong. And that something was Ms. Jaio. So, I kept probing until Sam gave me enough information that me brain kicked in with an idea, a deadly one, but at the time, it seemed like a good one.

"Some things aren't meant to be, Gabe."

"What things?"

"Things."

"What kind of things?"

"Women things."

I understood that, or thought I did. That's when Sam's dog, Bowser, wanted out. I didn't offer to go with him; I thought to give Sam some alone time to clear his head. So I rang up Tonya. I was curious to know what she thought because I had introduced the two ex-lovebirds, and how she thought I possessed some mysterious authority over the relationship, or lack thereof.

I reported Sam's condition to her and Ms Jaio's refusal to talk when I rang her earlier that day.

"What are you going to do?" Tonya asked me.

"About what?"

"Sam and Ms. Jaio."

"What am I going to do?"

"You introduced them." She pointed out needlessly.

"That's a lovely leap of logic, Tonya. Let me say that introducing two adults does not make one responsible for whatever subsequently happens between them."

"I'm not convinced. You got them into this."

"I introduced them, Tonya. I didn't get them into anything."

"Well, somebody did."

Silence on me end. Then she said, "The best thing you can do is leave Sam alone."

But I didn't hear that; I heard Sam needs cheering up and the idea in the back of me mind was starting to take form. And how better to do that than give him romantic advice? Yes, indeed, that's the thing. But I found out quite quickly that Sam, despite the current evidence, considers himself vastly more knowledgeable about women than ME!

When he came back, I started this low-key (at least to me) conversation on the subject. HE just stared at me! Finally, he said something.

"Gabe, how many women have you been engaged to?"

"One, me wife."

"And it stuck. I don't see how you're qualified to advise me."

"You weren't engaged; that was an accident that happened, sort of."

SILENCE.

I realised I made a major tactical error. Then he said: "I know you were engaged. That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

He didn't answer. I was convinced that despite everything I'd been told, there was one simple solution: Sam and Ms. Jaio needed to talk. I know everyone thinks that's a terrible idea, but I got it into me head to arrange an accidental meeting. Yes, I know, I know, I can hear you saying, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I TOLD YOU NOT TO GET BACK IN THE MATCHMAKING BUSINESS, AND I EMPHASIZED NOT TO GET BACK IN THE MATCHMAKING BUSINESS; IT NEVER ENDS WELL FOR YOU!"

I would simply invite both of them somewhere without telling either that the other will be there. 

Gabe

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