Even if I hadn’t been the one that overreacted, I was angry with myself for allowing the conversation to deteriorate. If I had just shut up and let it be … but then again, that wasn’t going to solve the problem. I couldn’t hide from it. I had to face it. But what was I facing? I didn’t have a clue what had gone wrong. If I didn’t know what it was all about, how could I go about fixing it? I walked around the neighborhood for over an hour and finally summoned up the courage to go home. I was hoping that Rebecca would be there, but there was no sign of her. I knew she wouldn’t just leave the kids on their own. I hung up my jacket and walked upstairs. The bedroom door was still closed, and nothing had changed since I had left. Jon and Marion were in the family room watching TV, and I joined them. I was curious if they had overheard any of the confrontation earlier. I flopped myself down in my usual chair. They were watching an old James Bond flick. I waited to see if they would react. Inside her room I helped remove her dress.. She looked at it wailing but I calmed her saying, ‘It’s just the front panel – any seamstress will easily replace that.’ ‘You seem to know an awful lot about women’s clothing Harry.’ I just caught that comment, I was staring at her – she was in one of those white lace corset things with a strapless bra built in and straps hanging off attached to white stockings. ‘I—have to do the research on the internet to write authentically.’ ‘What do we do now?’ she asked, almost fluttering eyelids. I rushed to the dressing room – the only other evening dress was black. ‘Put on black stockings and this dress – those older women won’t like the thought of me up here consoling you on the bed. We go down right now and establish you as a winner.’ As we approached the table the men stood and the women looked at us, impressed. Flanna almost cracked my fingers in expressing her silent thank you. Later I prepared to kiss her goodnight at the door to her suite..
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