there was some kind of tension between us. she wore cowboy boots, had remarkably good posture and i hadn’t seen her for three years.

she picked her way across the cafe towards my table. i stared intently at my newspaper, pretending that i had not noticed her come in the door. this meant that when she finally sat down in the booth in front of me, i had to elaborately feign surprise at seeing her there.

“Wendy!”, i exclaimed. “You look marvelous!”

Wendy said nothing. My coffee and eggs lay cold and untouched. She fiddled with the cameo brooch clipped to the collar of her blouse. She crossed her legs and then re-crossed them. It was apparent that Wendy would not be making this easy for me.