20

Steve made the coffee in the morning while Virginia went into the fenced back yard with the dogs. It looked to be another cloud-free fall day. She was feeling good, as she always did when she started the day with an orgasm. It had been a long time since that happened. She and Matt had a regular sex life, but as he grew older and needed some advance notice to take his Viagra, they had settled on mid-morning Sunday as “date time.” Although the act was anything but spontaneous, the not quite programmed moves led to a predictable climax that satisfied them both. She wondered if Steve took Viagra. Her friend Charlene said her husband was quite touchy about the subject. What was there to be sensitive about? Wasn’t it just a normal part of the aging process, like menopause, or gray hair?

The dogs had finished their business and were running around, letting off steam. She opened the door and called them to come back in. She was dying for coffee, and it was hard to wait for it to finish dripping. Would Steve want a postmortem on their lovemaking of last night and this morning? The only words exchanged at the time had been his request that she let him know when she came. Not “if,” but “when.” She decided to bring it up herself to make it easier for him.

“I love a little sex before breakfast,” she said.

“I like a lot of it,” he answered. “And my teachers told me how much women like that.”

“Your teachers?”

He handed her a full cup. “I worked in my dad’s garage while I was in high school. The guys got a kick out of telling an ignorant teenager what to expect. It gave me more of a head start than most kids my age.”

“But surely some girls want to get their coffee first?”

“Well, maybe the ones who don’t open their eyes until they smell it under their nose. Do you eat breakfast?”

“Oh my yes. I’m good for nothing all day if I don’t. In fact, just a little FYI, I can get really cranky if I don’t get breakfast.”

“Really? Bacon and eggs? I don’t think I have any pancake mix. But you’re welcome to take over the kitchen.”

Really? He wants me to cook breakfast for myself? In his kitchen? Who’s the host here?  “A big meal isn’t actually necessary, especially if it takes a while to get it on the table. Toast is good. Or cereal.”

“Maybe there’s something in the freezer.” Steve waved in the direction of the refrigerator.

“You’re not a breakfast person?”

“It depends on what’s available mostly. I’m really into warmed over pizza.”

She poked around in the freezer and pulled out a coffee cake. “How about something sweet? It takes—“ She read the directions. “Twenty seconds in the microwave.” She opened a cupboard or two until she found a plate. Then she popped the cake out of its aluminum pan and put it in the microwave. Steve was looking at his cell phone, so she studied the appliance to see which button to push. In the end she got it going and watched the seconds counting down from 60. She managed to get the door to open at more or less the right time and asked herself if she needed to serve him, deciding in the end that he knew where the cake was if he wanted some.

She pulled out her cell phone. “What’s your wifi password?”

“It’s on the back of the router. Here, I’ll read it to you.” He moved to the windowsill and turned the gadget around.

“Which network is it?”

“The one that ends Q6.”

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“Capital U, capital R, number two, small letters d-y-e, number 4, exclamation point.”

“Are you pulling my leg?”

“Actually, yes. The password is three three, capital K, six one eight, small d-e-l, capital HY nine.”