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Really, really sorry…” Miracle said. “Fiiine,” I said, opening the door all the way with my hand on the doorknob. “Ladies first,” I said sweetly, gesturing for her to back inside. She scowled at me, but walked inside. I walked in after her and shut the door, locking it. Wordlessly, she sat down on the couch and crossed her arms, clearly angry. I put my hands on either side of her, on the couch and leaned forward. “You know I would never leave you out there.” I said seriously. She didn’t say anything; just stared at the ground. “Miiiiracle,” I cooed. “Are you ignoring me now” No response. “Okay, okay. Fine.” I shrugged, sitting at the far end of the couch. I reached for the remote control to the television. Flipping through, I found a movie. Endless moments of silence passed. “You’re a dick.” Miracle said simply, staring at me. I chuckled slightly. “I know.” She shook her head, and averted her eyes back to the television. I sighed, barely audibly, feeling a small twinge of guilt and. She would never permit him to think--to know--that she was waiting for him, could not ever let him know that she was looking forward to seeing him again. How then, she wondered, was she to explain the pitcher of martinis? The prepared sandwiches? She felt as though she were losing her mind. She went to the kitchen, poured herself a martini and drank it straight down.At five minutes of one, Marily was drunk. She had consumed three martinis and had cried and had washed her face and had applied make-up and had settled down with another martini. Then she heard her name called, softly, from the door leading to the patio. She sprung up from the chair, weaved slightly, then made herself stand still. She would not, she insisted, show how eager she was. She walked slowly to the door and looked at him, standing there, smiling, waiting for her. That was all it took.Marily hurriedly opened the door and fell into his waiting arms. She clung to him, found his mouth with hers, and kissed him long.
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