I. Quarter-Anniversary  

‘You’re aware what tomorrow is, aren’t you?’ she asks, as he ambles into the kitchen, shoeless, hair not quite dry, holding his tie in his hand.

‘Uh, let me think… national receptionist-slash-artist-slash-goddess appreciation day?’ he replies, taking the glass of orange juice she pours for him.

‘Almost. It’s our three-month anniversary. A quarter year.’

‘Counting in quarters…what are you, an accountant now, Beesly?’ he asks, leaning down and kissing her good morning. Enthusiastically. ‘Does this mean we owe some kind of love tax?’

‘I’m serious. Tomorrow really is three months from our first date.’

‘Okay…what are you considering our first date?’

‘When you came to dinner at my place, of course.’

‘So you mean, ahem, the first time we…’

‘That’s not how I was thinking about it,’ she cuts him off. ‘But yeah, that too…I mean, when else would you count from?’

He gulps down his juice and pauses for a second, squinting as if in deep concentration.

‘We went out for lunch a couple of weeks before that, didn’t we?’

‘Oh, you mean the one that ended in a lot of screaming and tears in the parking lot?’ she asks, chuckling. ‘That was festive.’

‘Good point.’ 

She takes the tie out of his hand and reaches up to work it under his shirt collar.

‘Okay,’ she continues, knotting it for him. ‘The official kick-off was the seduction dinner.’

‘So that’s how it was…the truth finally comes out,’ he smirks down at her, as she pointedly pulls the knot a little too tight.

‘Don’t play innocent with me, Jim…like I seduced you or something. You were hardly playing…uh, hard to get. And if you even think TWSS, I’m out of here.’

Finishing with his tie, she quickly kisses him on the chin.

‘I admit nothing, Pam,’ he continues. ‘Anyway, you weren’t exactly coy about it. Two glasses of wine and you were practically ripping my clothes off with your teeth.’

‘Yeah, right.’

He smiles, grabbing the English muffin package on the counter, and holding it up. She nods and he pops one in the toaster for each of them.

‘Well, seriously… what was the point of pretending? I mean besides being head over heels in love with you, I was practically in agony by then.’

‘How so?’ she asks, skeptically.

‘Hmmm, let’s see, how can I put this delicately?’ he looks off, as if searching for the right words. ‘You know the warning at the end of those TV commercials for Viagra, where they say to seek medical attention if you have an erection that lasts for more than 4 hours?’

‘Not sure I want to know where you’re going with this….’

‘Well, by then…in terms of you, I was going on four years.’

There’s simply no way she can respond to this, other than to roll her eyes at him.

‘Just being honest here,’ he offers, clearly very pleased with himself for thinking of the analogy.

‘Okay, thanks for sharing…so, three months it is then.’

‘Agreed,’ he concurs, sitting down at the table and opening the newspaper

‘And Jim?’

‘Hmm?’ He glances back up at her.

‘Stop watching those commercials. The last thing you need is Viagra.’

‘Lucky you,’ he laughs, blushing slightly.

‘Yeah, lucky…exhausted…me,’ she can’t help smiling back, buttering him a muffin.