A few weeks ago, Maxie called me. My heart nearly exploded. He needed to discuss something with me.
As my fantasies raced through my mind, he said, “I’m coming over now…” and hung up.
There was my husband, sitting in the living room, reading a newspaper. Here I was, certainly not stunningly dressed.
I raced upstairs, a quick shower, a bit of make up, a nicer outfit, not unlike what I had been wearing, then, down.
“Maxie’s coming over…” I said in a puzzled voice, “Sounds… important?” I say with a twist to devalue it.
Bob looked up, nodded, head back in the paper.
I wondered what Maxie wanted. I didn’t have long to wait, for in moments he was on the doorstep