Ben: I updated the spreadsheet. You can’t fight the spreadsheet, love.
Wifey: We are going to have a discussion about all this gourmet food
Ben: After my meal, we can discuss whatever you’d like.
Wifey: You want to have cheeseburgers and then discuss cheeseburgers?
Ben: You. I want to have you first. Talk second.
Wifey: Thank you, though
Ben: For the mind-bending orgasm?
Wifey: FOR THE FOOD!
Ben: Please don’t shout in text messages, it’s a bit rude.
Wifey: I HATE YOU SO MUCH.
Ben: Hatred, the foundation of every great marriage.
[Wifey has muted the conversation]
_____
“They really do go all out, don’t they?” Aiden grumbles as we pass not the first or second but third massive inflatable turkey we’ve seen since driving from the small airport into the actualtown Juniper Falls. Some yards have skipped the turkeys and already have lights and snowmen on display.
“They do. The inn is nice enough for a night, though, chin up.” I tell my cantankerous friend who is grounded overnight due to the ice.
Aiden sighs at me and Nigel agrees in the front. “I think I preferred you whiny to…whatever this is.”
“Happy?” I say.
He shakes his head, “That’s not it.”
Well, he’s not wrong. This is not just happiness. This is…extreme anticipation?
It. Is. Saturday.
Finally.
Janelle and I have texted back and forth all week long, as usual. I’ve been annoying, she’s been annoyed, as usual. There have been GIFs and eye rolls and all our normal go-tos. But she sent me an unsolicited selfie. She asked me all about where I was, what I was doing, and, namely, who I was with. We worked together on a new project, another C.I. purchase whose brand was not up to par. She’s sent photos of her—much improved, you’re welcome—meals.
It’s just been…more.
Like she was dying for me to get to Juniper Falls as much as I was dying to get here. I was supposed to land this morning but there was stupid weather in stupid New York. Damned stupid city with its early snow.Happy first snow of the season my ass, just move the bloody ice off the tarmac so planes can land! Honestly!
“Well, whatever it is, I hope you get it out of your system.” Nigel says as we pull up to the house.
I can’t help but laugh at his choice of words as I get out, “I plan to.”
A look of understanding, and then disgust, passes over both their faces as I back away. I don’t bother to say goodbye. I know I look like a smug bastard. I feel like one. Janelle Rae Rollins Clark is inside this house right now waiting for me. I get to kiss her, explore her, push her to her limits.
So, yes, smug bastard, indeed.
I push through the front door, “Wifey! It’s Saturday!”
“Hello,” she drags the word out, walking toward me in…what? A nightie?
