Chapter 2

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Church," the head-waiter said, barely looking up from his reservation chart.

"Good afternoon, Andre. Has Mrs. Whitman arrived yet?"

"Yes, ma'am," Andre answered, signaling for a waiter. "Show Mrs. Church to Mrs. Whitman's table. Number 21." Midge followed the waiter to the table across the room next to the window that she and Deedie always reserved when they had lunch together. Deedie was married to Robert's boss at the agency and she and Midge had become good friends soon after Robert had started with Carter and White.

It was an important relationship for both women. Midge was glad to have a somewhat older woman in her confidence - someone who had seen a good deal more of life and was willing to share her experience. And for Deedie, Midge made her feel younger than her years. She was pleased that she was still able to communicate with someone Midge's age.

"Sorry I'm so late, Deedie," Midge said as the waiter pulled out her chair for her. "But I've had a simply terrible morning. And then..."

"Forget it," Deedie interrupted. "It gave me a chance to have a quiet drink. Waiter, bring us two more of these, please," she ordered politely, dismissing him as soon as Midge was seated. "Here," Deedie offered, pushing her half-finished drink over to Midge. "Have some of this until the waiter brings a fresh one for you. You look like you need it more than I do," she quipped, half joking, half serious.

"Thanks," Midge answered. "I have the feeling I'm going to need several of these before I even begin to feel human again."

"Well, you go right ahead," Deedie said, fishing in her bag for a cigarette. "I wish I had a dime for every drink our husbands had over their lunches the past few years!"

As Deedie lit her cigarette, the waiter brought over the fresh drinks and set them in front of the two women. Midge took the last sip of Deedie's drink and handed the empty glass to the waiter.

"We'll order later, thank you," she said to the waiter and immediately started in on her fresh drink.

"Hey, you weren't kidding, were you?" Deedie asked as she watched Midge take several large gulps from her drink. "Slow down, girl, or we won't have to bother ordering lunch!" she laughed. Midge only stared at her. "Is something wrong, Midge?"

But Midge was lost in her thoughts and gave no response.

"I said," Deedie almost shouted. "Is anything wrong?"

"What?" Midge asked. "I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't paying attention!"

"I should say you weren't. What's on your mind? You certainly don't seem like you're here just to have a gossipy lunch with me. Are you having troubles or something?"

"No, I'm not in any kind of trouble. Well, in a way I guess I am. Oh, Deedie, I just don't know who to turn to!"

"Listen, Midge. You know there isn't anything you can't tell me. That's what a best friend is for."

"Yes, I know," Midge answered. "It's just that... well, it's not an easy subject to just blurt out. Even to your best friend."

"If you don't want to talk about it..."

"No, Deedie. I have to talk to someone."

"Is it about Robert?"

"How did you know?" Midge started to ask.

"Honey, when you've been married as long as I have you begin to be able to recognize the symptoms easily. What's wrong?"

Midge took another large sip from her drink and set it down. A few days ago she never would have dreamed that she would be confiding such an intimate fact, but now, she had to do something, had to get someone's advice. And it was true, Deedie had been married a long time... she probably would be able to give her some good advice.

Now that Robert was no longer home, even on weekends, Midge felt it was time to take some kind of action. But she could not imagine what. They had not made love during the week following their last unsuccessful (for Midge) attempt, and she became increasingly upset as the days went by. Finally this very morning she had approached Robert at breakfast. Perhaps she had gone about it the wrong way... but then, she was so terribly disturbed. He had responded angrily, telling her that nothing would stop him from staying out if his promotion depended on it, and accusing her of nagging and hinting that perhaps she was the kind of wife who was more of a drawback to her husband than an asset. He hadn't said it in exactly those words, but Midge knew what he was getting at. She had stood speechless, her mouth open in astonishment as Robert slammed out the front door.