“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Frances said as she sat in the green brocade wingback in her oldest friend’s living room, “but yesterday, while picking up my favorite pair of pumps at the shoe repair shop, I succumbed to the charms of a very attractive man.”
Claudia swiveled round on the piano bench where she’d been softly playing Schubert. “Oh, how delicious. Tell me more.”
“You won’t approve. He’s not of our social set.”
“Oh? You mean he’s a Democrat?”
“I didn’t think to ask him that, but I suppose it’s possible.”
“So was there more after the encounter at the shop?”
“Oh yes, a lot more.”
“Oh, come on, spit it out! You know I can’t stand withholders!”
“He was magnificent, let me just say. Romantic and so gentle. Honestly, I felt as if I were sixteen.”
“So, where did you go after the shoe repair shop?”
“To my home.”
“To your house? Are you crazy? A total stranger? He could have been a murderer!”
“He’s not a stranger, my dear.”
“You know him?”
“You know him, too.”
“Stop with the games, Frances. Who is this person?”
“Bennett.”
Bennett? Bennett who?
How many Bennetts do you know?
“No!”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t!”
“I did.”
“But…”
“No buts, he’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever known.”
“This can’t happen!”
“It already has.”
“End it today.”
“I won’t.”
“I won’t associate with you anymore.”
“So be it.”
“So our friendship is less important than a meaningless fling?”
“This is no fling, for either of us, I assure you.”
“You can’t!”
“I can. I have. I will. Enough.”
“Fine, then, leave.”
“Fine!” The door slammed shut.
Claudia walked into the kitchen. “You heard?”
“I did.”
“How could this happen?”
“Two lonely people happy to find each other.” The older black man pushed away the silver he’d been polishing, then stood. “I’ll pack now.”
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