Glinda paces nervously before the front door, worried and slightly frantic at the passage of time, at each noisy tock of the clock.
“It’s nearly past five. He always comes home by five.”
A noise in the stairwell and she whips her head around, frozen, not breathing, evaluating the sound.
“No. Too heavy. Those feet are too heavy. But surely he’s coming? It’s nearly past five.”
She sits at the dinette where they share their morning coffee and biscuits, noticing a wayward pile of crumbs on the floor. Unable to keep still, Glinda hops up to pace the front doorway again.
“Oh dear. Oh my. I hope he hasn’t forgotten.” No, Glinda shakes her head furiously, jingling the fancy necklace he picked out for her last Christmas. He wouldn’t forget, he couldn’t, he’s a very good man. “But it’s nearly past five.”
The slamming of a car door and she’s pressed to the window, all eyes, all ears, straining for the familiar sounds of a man coming home to the one who has waited all day. Held it in all day.
“He’s here! He’s here!” Glinda leaps none too gracefully toward the door, the tell-tale sounds of tinkling keys and a brief case hitting the door frame sending her anxious body into near convulsive tremors.
“Glinda my love!” he declares dramatically as he crosses the threshold, tossing his affects onto the dinette. “How’s my favorite blond?”
“Oh, I missed you. I really missed you!” Glinda looks adoringly into his eyes, all anxiety gone, all replaced by sheer joy at the sight of his face, his smell, his godlike presence.
“Did you miss me? I bet you missed me.” He gives Glinda an affectionate pat on the rump. “Now let’s get your leash and we’ll go out for a piddle.”