I have to resist the temptation to point out that I never actually asked her to do anything. I don’t want to argue though. That will just make this ...orse. So I wait a few minutes and then I begin to tell her about a dream I’ve had. Nothing risque. Just a funny dream. She lightens up and she’s laughing and joking with me. Happy again. I must remember to keep what I say subtle. It has to be all implied and hinted at. Like in those romance novels.We spend the day at the lake with the k**s. There’s. Her voice was softer. “What would Hemingway do?”Books, always books. Why not common sense?“Hemingway, I expect,” Tom stood and zipped up his trousers, “would shoot himself.”There was silence. He gathered his clothes. She pulled on her dress and shoes. Grasping the door handle, Tom glanced back to check no trace of them remained. Head bowed, Lilly followed him out through the library. The librarian nodded as they passed.Outside it was darkening. The air was heavy and sweet. Leaves turning.Tom. More

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