He nudged her with his elbow. "Probably not the long one you were hoping for, am I right?" True to form, she made a coughing sound and stormed off, acting for all the world as though she hadn't appreciated the attention. A short meeting with his boss, a conference call that failed to hold his attention at the end of the shift and he was ready to go, wrapped for the day. He reviewed the calendar for the next day with Liz, asked her to make a few changes to his schedule, "There's a good girl, just give them a call, it won't take but a minute or two," and then he was out. It was almost six-thirty when he got home to find the house empty, and remembered his car. 'Right, Louise is getting it from the shop.' He checked the fridge for something to eat, found leftovers from what Louise had made yesterday, and tossed it into the microwave. While it heated, he went inside to get out of his work suit. He slipped on his old sweats, and a stray concert tee shirt, from some band they'd seen when. I don't even know if you still exist. You are confusing the hell out of me. I know I'm not a lesbian but for months every time I make love I'm making love to someone in a nightgown and lipstick. I wake up in the morning and watch you get out of bed and put on a pair of fucking panties. I come home at night and get a peck on the cheek from someone wearing a dress who has bigger boobs than me. What does that make me?" She was beginning to sob. "What the hell does that make me?" I started to sit down next to her but she pulled away. "Don't," she said. "Don't touch me." For almost five minutes we stood still in awkward, painful silence. Kathleen, huddled in a corner of the couch, trying desperately not to cry as she hugged herself, staring into space. Me, dressed for a cocktail party, staring at her, not daring to move. Finally, Kathy pulled herself up. "I'm going to bed." She shook her head a couple of times and then headed upstairs without looking at me. That night I.
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