Larry
After the call ends, I stumble out and into the party. I find Tiffany at our table, drinking red wine. My son will not be coming along with both of us because, of course, we are still pretending to be in love. We have to take a few weeks away from work and go on a honeymoon. I've made the decision. We'll be flying into Scotland this evening.
"How are you?" I ask as I slide into the seat next to her. She shrugs and looks at the wine still floating about in the glass. "I'm fine. Do you need something?"
"I…" I shake my head. I don't know if she's being this detached version toward me because of our fight but I don't want to delve into another fight here.
"Did you pack?" I ask, desperate to make small talk.
She nods. "How long are we going to be staying for?"
"Two weeks at most," I answer and take her glass from her. I sip the wine and then pass it to her. "It's good," I comment on the wine.
"It is," she agrees like it is normal that we are talking about wine and avoiding important conversations.