Suddenly a small clinking and scratching appeared from the apartment door. A key turned and the door opened. "Hun, I'm home", echoed a male voice through the rooms, and also back out into the staircase.
Giselle stuck her head through the kitchen door, "Oh hi! You look dry, I'm glad!". She smiled at him brightly and as he hung up his jacket and put the sneakers aside, she vanished back into the kitchen. With the sudden change of plans, the oven was now baking some french fries and a plate of very tasty cheese dip. They could share and it'd be enough. Her lips were pressed together and she playfully shifted them left and right and back, as she considered the amount of food available to them. It would be enough.
A shy "Hi" and a surprised "Oh" ripped her back from her mind into the kitchen. In three long strides she was in the living room. Annie had emerged from the bathroom, dressed casually in dry clothes, wet, blonde hair, red cheeks and her husband, the idiot, he stared at her. Her breasts. Not her face. Breasts! It wasn't jealousy that rose within her, it was embarrassment. That oaf.
With the most menacing look of reproach, she waltzed over. When she grasped his hand, he finally looked at her with those innocent brown eyes, that she felt so drawn into. "Remember Annie? She lives next door?", she said playfully, with the slightest hint of reproach. "She got drenched and left her apartment keys in the office. I offered her the couch".
Ian nodded understandingly and she squeezed his hand tightly as his eyes seemed to drop down below the neckline again. He quickly recovered and smiled at Annie, "Just make yourself at home." and then he helplessly smiled at Giselle. Of course she'd pick up the slack. She always did that. She sighed but shrugged it off.
"There's more food in the oven, we're going to share pizza and the snacks, do you also want wine? I'll grab you a glass, too", she steamrolled over the quiet, dumbfounded Annie, who just nodded and stared after Ian vanishing in the bedroom. Giselle motioned towards the couch. It was a big one with a 90 degree corner and with a dark gray, durable fabric. In the corner four blankets of different colours were piled up. Annie took the top one and sat down on the far end, pulled her legs up and added, "Thanks, Giselle. I'm not that hungry. I don't want to be a burden...", but Giselle waved off. "Nonsense! It'll be fun", she smiled warmly, but somehow still regretted the loss of couple's night.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
When Ian came back, he wore checkered pajama pants and a black tee that had two hands with a huge thumbs each up printed on it. The print underneath said "Who has two thumbs and does not give a shit?". Giselle had made him only wear it at home after he decided to show up on his company's summer party in that tee. Annie laughed as he fell into the cushions on the opposite side and relaxed with his full weight against the backrest. "Nice shirt", she grinned and tilted her head slightly. Ian grinned brightly back at her, "I know, right?", then he yelled towards the kitchen, "Hun, she gets the tee! Everyone thinks it's funny!!". Giselle raised an eyebrow and brought more glasses and juice, "Not everyone does. Your boss didn't think it was funny?". Ian chuckled, "But he's got no humour!"
Across the years, Ian had tried to rise into middle management, but never made it. Eventually he settled into his job and got more relaxed in doing so. She never liked the ambitious husband, even if it had meant that he stopped exercising and put on a bit of weight. Life in general had improved, or so she thought at least.
A tiny speaker in the corner tuned into Groove Salad as Giselle put her finger down on the on-button. It was a mixture of ambient and instrumental electronic background music that drowned the quiet. Ten more minutes and the oven would beep. Giselle sat down between Ian and Annie. Shifting the topic of conversation, she smiled at their guest, "We haven't spoken in what now, a year? How are you doing? Are you still writing for that newspaper?".
Annie's face lit up as she responded. "I believe I'm doing well. I've been promoted to run the economics part of our bi-weekly magazine.", she said and scratched herself above the ear, "So I get to decide which stories we publish and heavily influence the direction the whole magazine is taking!". After finishing Annie found four eyes glaring at her curiously. That made her seemingly uneasy. Holding on to the wine glass was a welcome distraction and she started to rotate it with her fingers. Unfortunately the wine was quite good and would leave her tipsy, if she wasn't careful now.