Their Moment

Another insistent knock on the door.  She turned, sighing, and ran a hand
through her hair.  "Excuse you," she called, "But we're having a moment."  

"Well, hurry it up," a man's voice replied, "We're going to be late."

The woman ignored her husband's verbal prod and turned back to her companion.
"As I was saying, Wes can be so insensitive sometimes."

Her companion, another woman, nodded and reached up under her hair to secure a
gold hoop earring.  "I agree, but aren't most men insensitive?"

"True," the first woman conceded, "But I thought Wes was different.  He used
to be so much more caring where I was concerned.  He used to do nice things
for me.  He used to BE nice to me."

"It's nothing you did," the second woman said quickly.  "It's all Wes."

The first woman nodded vigorously, hitching up her skirt and straightening her
pantyhose.  "Well, of course it is.  I haven't changed since we got married.
It would have to be him."

The second woman seemed to think about this while she spritzed herself with
perfume.  "You don't think he's having an affair, do you?"

"Goodness, no!" the first woman laughed.  "When would he have time?"

"It was just a thought," her companion sulked, then began applying an earth-
toned lipstick.

There was another knock on the door.  "Hon, really, I don't want to be late
for this dinner.  Can you please wrap it up in there?"

The first woman shot the second an apologetic glance.  "His Majesty summons
me," she said airily, "I guess I will tell you all about it when I get back."
Her companion smiled at her encouragingly, and then the first woman unlocked
the door and stepped into the hall.

Her husband was pacing nervously, as he was wont to do, and he looked up and
smiled when she came out.  "You look good," he said, tone genuine.  "Did you
have a good moment?"

"Yes, we did," his wife confirmed, reaching out and squeezing his hand before
brushing past him in a cloud of wispy fabric.

Before following, the man let the smile slip from his face and glanced into
the bathroom from which his wife had emerged.  Empty, except for the lingering
smell of perfume.


=====

Stephica
stephica@bellsouth.net


The Sunburst Project, Week 4
http://www.chaoseed.com/btr/sbp/
4/6/00