“More cocoa?”
“Yes. Please.”
“How do you feel?”
“Alright. Better.”
“Can you explain
what just happened?”
“PMS.”
“But nothing
personal?”
“Nothing.”
“Margery?”
“Yes Dwight?”
“We do love each
other.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe not as
husband and wife?”
“It doesn’t
matter. Does it?”
“No.”
“Dwight?”
“Yes?”
“Are you sorry?”
“About?”
“That I’m not a
conventional wife, that—I don’t share your bed?”
“No.”
“Are you telling me
the truth?”
“I can’t go back.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t go back,
not to what I had with Jeanette. I’m no
longer there.”
“Me neither, I
guess.”
“What are we doing
together?”
“I don’t know.”
“I suppose it’s
better than not being together.”
“I suppose it is.”
“But you are not
convinced?”
“I am,
actually. But I’m going to need some
time alone.”
“Me too.”
“How are we going
to do this?”
“I’ve been offered
the use of a condo in Grand Cayman Island for next month.”
“Take it.”
“You don’t
mind? I was afraid you might.”
“Don’t be a
ninny. Just go.”
“You’ll be okay?”
“I have Carol and
Glen, and I suppose Doris and maybe Greg if I should start hitting the walls.”
“You honestly don’t
mind?”
“You don’t need my
permission.”
“It isn’t as if
we’re actually married.”
“It isn’t as if
we’re chained to each other.”
“How’s your cocoa?”
“Wonderful. Hey, Dwight?”
“Yes?”
“I think I’m going
to change my surname.”
“To?”
“’Orion’. ‘Margery Orion’”.
“I like that.”
“I figured you
would.”
“But why not your
first name too?”
“For instance?”
“Andromeda.”
“Andromeda
Orion. Maybe.”
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