“Why don’t we put on our woolly sli
ppers?” he wondered.
“I’ll get them.”
She fetched the slippers.
They put them on, exhaling at the cool feel of the material.
“Ahhhhh!”
“Why are you still wearing your coat and vest?”
“You know, new clothes are like a suit of armor.”
He worked out of the coat and, a minute later, the vest.
The chairs creaked.
“Why, it’s four o’clock,” she said, later.
“Time flies. Too late to go out now, isn’t it?”
“Much too late. We’ll just rest awhile. We can call a taxi to take us to supper.”
“Elma.” He licked his lips.
“Yes?”
“Oh, I forgot.” He glanced away at the wall.
“Why don’t I just get out of my clothes into my bathrobe?” he suggested, five minutes later. “I can dress in a rush when we stroll off for a big filet supper on the town.”
“Now, you’re being sensible,” she agreed. “John?”
“Something you want to tell me?”
She gazed at the new shoes lying on the floor. She remembered the friendly tweak on her instep, the slow caress on her toes.
“No,” she said.
They listened for each other’s hearts beating in the room. Clothed in their bathrobes, they sat sighing.
“I’m just the least bit tired. Not too much, understand,” she said, “just a little bit.”
“Naturally. It’s been quite a day, quite a day.”
“You can’t just rush out, can you?”
“Got to take it easy. We’re not young any more.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m slightly exhausted, too,” he admitted, casually.
“Maybe,” she glanced at the clock, “maybe we should have a bite here tonight. We can always dine out tomorrow evening.”
“A really smart suggestion,” he said. “I’m not ravenous, anyway.”