Fast Forward 6 Months

Taste Test

"I was thinking after we go do laundry we could go out to the Palais. We haven't been out dancing in a long time. It'll be nice to get dressed up and go out," Stephen suggested as he ate his Lo Mein out of the box.

Betty smiled, "Yes. I would like that." She stabbed at her Kung Pao Chicken.

The launderette was warm and noisy; they were lucky to get a machine. They finished their dinner as their clothes spun dry.

Betty and Stephen dressed for the evening. He wore a dark navy blue suit, waistcoat, and a starched white shirt and blue Regimental tie. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushed a coat of polish on his shoes, and then buffed them to a high gloss.

Betty wore a calf-length burgundy-colored dress with a sweeping neckline, a pair of matching pumps, which made her about three inches taller, and threaded glittering diamond drop earrings into her lobes. Her lips were a tastefully refined wine color and her make-up was soft and muted, revealing her natural beauty. She had a deep plum-colored rinse in her softly-styled hair. Betty stepped out of the bathroom and he stood up. He gave her a head-to-toe, licked his lips lightly, smiled, and raised his eyebrows, "You look wonderful, Dear," he gushed.

Betty strutted over to where he was standing, tilted her head toward him, and he gently brushed her cheek with his lips.

They descended the staircase downstairs and Stephen retrieved their coats from the entryway cupboard. He held her coat open and she slipped her arms in. Opening the front door for her, they stepped outside into the crisp night.

"What would you like to drink, Dear?" he bellowed over the loud music.

"Just a gin and tonic, thank you!" She watched as he disappeared into the flock of party-goers.

It was loud and hot and smoky in the dance hall. Betty sat at one of the small tables which lined the walls of the Palais de Danse. A DJ played popular songs and people mobbed the dance floor. A candle in a jar adorned the table. Colored lights flashed and swirled around the large room. Betty could feel the bass thumping in her chest.

He wove his way around the throng to the bar. He called his order to the barkeep and waited.

She poised herself next to him, every bit as tall as he and at least twenty years younger. Long straight auburn hair, green eyes, deep cut black dress, voluptuous ample bosom, flawless skin. Skirt slit to mid-thigh, black stilettos, tantalizing perfume. She was gorgeous and she was looking right at him!

She pursed her lips, "Hello, handsome," she enticed, "how's about you drop that old bag and come home with me instead?"

His eyebrows shot up. What does one do when the person insulting one's wife is another woman? He tried to act as if he was not attracted to her. A year and a half ago, it would not have even been a question. He scratched his chin and smiled nervously. He said nothing, resisting the urge to look at her cleavage and the rest of her. She licked her lips alluringly. She leaned in, as if she were going to kiss him; his breath caught in his throat. She slipped a bit of paper into Stephen's hand, winked, turned, and sauntered away: "Carmen- 96541"

The barkeep returned with the drinks and Stephen paid him. He exhaled, relieved. He left the slip of paper on the bar and returned to the table with his and Betty's drinks.

The DJ played a slow ballad; Stephen leaned over, intoning over the music,"Would you like to dance?"

She stood up and he led her to the dance floor. They danced expertly, light on their feet; he spun her round.

"I saw her at the bar chatting you up," Betty spoke loudly.

He sullenly looked down, ashamed.

Betty touched his cheek, smiled, and maneuvered herself so she was looking up into his eyes, "I'm proud of you. A year and a half, 2 years ago, you wouldn't have given it a second thought; you would have gone off for a canoodle."

She knew him all too well. He smiled and kissed her behind her ear, "I love you, Betty," he whispered.

He straightened up and held her tightly, dancing her round the floor.