At 6:00 pm, Kevin knocked on Brandy’s door. She felt her heart racing as she answered it. Her smile was strained and awkward on her face and she didn’t want to let him go when he hugged her.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Kevin said. “You’ve been crying.” The young man had changed into casual clothes before coming over.
Brandy nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She wore her dancing penguin pajamas and her pink panties. She always wore her pink panties because they helped her feel brave. Or, rather, it made the world around her feel more ridiculous. No matter what happened, she could always just think to herself: Sure, I can understand you want to yell at me because the extra shot I added to your coffee at your request is somehow now too much but, you know what? …
Brandy sat at the end of an over-stuffed brown couch with a glass of red wine in one hand. Her other hand held a white envelope. Kevin sat at the opposite end from her, one leg crossed on the couch. Light music played from the stereo system while Brandy stared suspiciously at the young man.
“Our anniversary was three months ago,” Brandy informed him.
“I know, I know. Just open the thing already!” Kevin’s words were gentle despite his protest.
Brandy continued to stare. “This better not be a proposal.”
“Oh god no,” Kevin assured her. “No no no. Trust me. …