It's a cold, stormy night and my love is working late. So I take advantage of the extra time. A little extra care fixing my hair, doing my makeup. I collect every pillow, large or small, from every room, and create an island in front of the fire. Massage oil is at hand, wine is opened and breathing, resting on ice.
Soft jazz plays on the stereo.
And so, I wait. Somehow, in between claps of thunder and driving rain, I hear him pull up. He runs in the door, shaking rain from his jacket, and nearly bowls me over as I stand in the hall. I see exhaustion in his eyes, but as he looks at me, a small, inquisitive smile lights up his face. He starts to say something, but I gently put my fingers to his lips, and lead him to the couch, and the warmth of the fire.