The man sits on the bed and watches his wife standing at her dresser, putting her makeup on in front of the mirror.

"Sexy black dress."

"Does it make me look –"

"It slims you."

"That's from what I'm wearing underneath. What used to be called a girdle. I can hardly breathe in it."

"Well, take it off. What's wrong with a few curves?"

"It's more than a few."

"You're in great shape, honey."

"For my age? Is that what you meant?"

"Did not."

"Well, I'm not one of those twentysomethings at your office. They're not big enough to cast a shadow."

"Mere slips of things. They live on bottled water and salad."

"Was I ever that thin?"

He laughs. "Did I ever have a full head of hair?"

"Here's proof." She picks up a framed wedding photo from her dresser, and holds it up. "I was a size two, and you had hair."

"Those were the days."

"Look at us, Harry. We were going to conquer the world."

"Yeah. I was going to design you a big house by the ocean, with hundreds of windows to let in the light."

"And I was going to dance on Broadway."

"You still have great legs."

She stretches out a leg, looking at it. "Not bad, even after four kids. What's the new one's name?"

"New who?"

The new girl. In your office."

"Oh, Schaefer's assistant. Kelly."

"Is she pretty?"

"Not as pretty as you."

"Please. I know you've noticed her. You notice all of them."

"Why do you always—"

"Because you size up every girl you see."

"Me?"

"Harry, you did it on our honeymoon, remember? You were checking out the girls on the cruise ship." She brushes her hair with a furious energy. "Sometimes I think I married a voyeur."

"Do we have to go through this again? I admit, I have a weakness for beauty. I'm an architect, after all. Well, that's what I had hoped to be. I don't know what you call somebody who designs medical buildings and nursing homes."

"A damned fine architect."

"You're sweet. I design buildings that are comfortable. With no frippery or useless space. They're not going to take your breath away, but they fit like an old shoe."

"Like me?"

"That's what you don't understand. There's beauty in a good fit. Beauty in getting up every day and seeing the same person, but appreciating the little changes over time. The way the light catches flecks of gold in your eyes at different times of day. How the texture of your hair has changed. The way your face has softened over the years. The little crows' feet around your eyes that crinkle when you smile. The way your hips have filled out and gotten more luxuriant. The smoothness of your upper arms. The way you curl up in bed. The sassiness you never had at 21. Then, just to keep it exciting, the fact that I still can't predict everything about you. There are still things that surprise me, even though I think I know you well."

She puts her brush down and smiles. "There you go again. I can never stay mad at you for long."

He goes over to her, and embraces her from behind. "There's a big difference in looking and seeing. I do look, but that's nothing. You're the one I really see."

"What a line of b.s." She pushes him away, and takes one more look in the mirror. "Well, I guess that's the best I can do. Come on, let's go."

"Right behind you."