She nods. “Juice?” She pushes orange juice toward me.
I lift a palm, shaking my head.
She sips hers, watching me.
“Gerald,” I call when I hear him near the kitchen.
He pokes his head inside. “Yes, sir.”
“You can go home now.”
My wife pales visibly.
Gerald walks up, looking confused, a dog leash in his hand.
I explain. “I declared war on my wife’s vision. This is a battleground. There will be naked bodies. You understand?”
Gerald nods. “Call me when you have declared a victory, sir.”
“Certainly.” I extend a hand, and Gerald puts a heavy leather leash in my palm. “Have a nice mini vacation. This won’t take long.” I glance at my wife. I think she might faint.
After I hear the house is empty of all other people including Ilona, the temporary maid, I grab my phone.
My wife hasn’t said a word. She’s quiet, asking nothing, only watching. I knew she would be. Quiet. Submissive. I could tell from the picture and from how her father described her. She’s perfect for me. “Wife, is there something you’d like to say?”
“I’ll walk the dog,” she says.
“We will walk the dog together. From this moment on, we are superglued.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is.”
“But it’s Friday.”
“So?”
“Don’t you have work today?”
Smiling evilly, I show her my phone screen, which reveals that I’m dialing Karen, my assistant.
She picks up on the fifth ring. “Crazy morning to you, sir. Shoot.”
I chuckle. “Send the people waiting in the conference room home. I’m canceling work today and for this weekend and maybe for a year. Depends on my wife.”
“Oh, wonderful. I’ll let Jesus know you’re going to be a proper husband now.”
“Thank you, Karen.” She’s sixty-three and talks to me however she wants.
“Anytime, sir. Blake’s going to be upset.”
“Invite him over for barbeque. And Bishop. Maybe my parents too? Whoever you want. Make it happen.”
“When?”
“Next weekend?” I prompt my wife.
She blinks. “Sure.”
