Pleasure

Margie thought it would be fun to have a treat today, so I ordered a piece of orange spice cake with our cappuccino, and when it arrived, it opened up a new window:

“This cake reminds me of a romantic man I once knew. A lovely man. Not my husband, no, he was a bore. I don’t think my husband had a romantic thought in his whole life. No. It was ____ [she mentioned his name, a story I heard years ago when she was still writing her memoir]. You mustn’t ever say his name, I don’t want my children to know, but after my husband left, my life finally began. I was a late starter [laughter]. He was a very passionate man. Passion was a—what do you call?”

A surprise? a revelation?

“That’s it. And a lot of pleasure, a lot of fun. Oh, he was good at giving pleasure....” She blushed and fell silent.

Did you want to marry this man?

“Oh no! He was married anyway, and I had enough of marriage with Alex. No, I wouldn't want to ruin this with marriage. Marriage was a bore. This was something else. Not for paying the bills, but for.... [After a long silence] You know, I’ve had a great life. I’ve had a really great life. I've been very lucky. I don't think I missed anything. [A long pause]  Well, I never went nightclubbing. Never had cocktails. Did you?”

First Extra for this year: the two of us in the elevator, heading out for coffee.

Sorrow for all those in California who are suffering from the fires and the smoke. Terrifying.