She didn’t hear the car door shut. Or the front door unlock. Or even the luggage drop in the front hall. That’s how fixated she was.
But she couldn’t help but notice him now, standing in the dining room archway.
“Expecting someone?” her husband asked.
No wonder he was suspicious. Candles were lit. The good China centered. The crystal stemware filled with an expensive Cabernet. She even had a pot roast in the oven just waiting to be paired with homemade mashed potatoes and gravy and a side of roasted root vegetables.
Yes, she was expecting someone.
Just not him.
The Weekday One Hundred 