“Sweetheart! Happy birthday again. Simon sounded odd this morning. Did you two have words?”
“A few.”
Wife material — 7.2/10.
She sighed. “He loves you, you know. He’s just an idiot sometimes.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Oh, and we completely forgot to give you our real present last night! We were running around like headless chickens. Check your email, it’s for both of you. Have fun, darling.”
Two plane tickets. Las Vegas. Hotel included. Leaving at seven that evening.
I looked at the tickets, then at the half-packed suitcase, then at the report card. Slowly, I took the clothes back out and made one call.
“He loves you, you know. He’s just an idiot sometimes.”
“Birthday girl!”
“Change of plans. We’re flying to Vegas.”
A pause. “We are?”
“Tonight. Wear a suit.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Probably.”
“Have fun, darling.”
***
Simon came home at five, earlier than usual. He stopped dead in the living room doorway, and his keys hit the floor.
