DavidThe fire is banked and crackling. Its light outlines two figures, glasses in hand, in the final throes of
companionable conversation, when both parties drift into longer and longer silences.
From the darkened kitchen, an aproned figure peers hopefully out at them. Everything was just right: the dinner, the vintage, the ambiance were exactly as directed. Does that mean she's going to do it? Is tonight going to be the night I get a sister?