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built on friendship and an equality that didn’t need the games others needed to play. Brad liked her aggressiveness, treating her as a partner first, and as a woman second. She loved that about him.
    Julie got into her small car parked at the train station. Instead of going home, she pulled into the supermarket and bought a roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and a vegetable in the deli section. It was as close to a home-cooked meal as she could put together on such short notice. Then she ran into the local bakery to buy the most decadent chocolate cake it had.

Chapter 4
    Brad pulled his truck into the carport, got out, and opened the rear door to take out the paintings he had brought home. He lugged them one by one into their small ranch house and rested them against the couch in the shabby living room. He went back for the lampshade, placing the box on the coffee table. All the furniture was secondhand—not that he minded, but he knew Julie did. They’d bought this tiny house just before the wedding. It was little more than an apartment on a slab, with a small utility kitchen, a living room with a cozy fireplace, and three tiny bedrooms that looked more like closets with windows. The bathroom was still vomit-green,circa 1978, and the harvest-gold kitchen appliances were so old they had started looking trendy. He had ripped out the shag carpet himself and surprised Julie by polishing the blond wooden floor, then covering it with a Berber area rug that they had made love on in front of a roaring fire. He stopped and stared at the spot where he had knocked over a glass of wine during that evening. Though the rug was new, Julie hadn’t minded. She’d giggled and said she’d never be able to look at the rug without thinking of them humping away, throwing both caution and wine to the wind. A smile split his face, his even teeth gleaming, the depression that sat heavily on him all day dissipating.
    He stripped quickly, stepped into theshower, and let the needles of hot water pierce through the dirt coating his skin.
    Julie entered the house and put the food on the bridge table they were currently using in the dining room. The fourth leg wobbled; it always looked ready to collapse. Brad promised her it was sound. Sliding out of her shoes, she used a toe to gently press it outward, until satisfied that it wouldn’t fall.
    “Brad,” she called, removing her coat and hanging it on a hook in the dim entry by the door. “Brad?” She heard the water running in the bathroom. Quickly, she slipped off her shirt and the rest of her clothes, silently opening the door to the pint-sized bathroom. Condensation covered the mirror; it was like walking into a cloud.Angling the shower curtain, she slid in and put her arms around the slippery form of her husband and his taut belly. He was sudsy. She pressed her nose against his firm shoulder, inhaling his scent, and brought her entire body in contact with his. She heard his sigh, but she wasn’t sure if it was of contentment or despair.
    “Happy birthday,” she whispered, taking him into her hand and sliding down the length of him. This time she knew the sigh was of contentment.
    Brad stopped, closing his eyes and caressing her smooth arms with his soapy hands. Julie kissed his back and then placed her cheek flush with his slick skin. She heard him rumble, “Jules.” He turned to embrace her, and they lostthemselves to the heat, water, and the glorious sensations of skin against skin. Dinner didn’t seem to matter after all.
    They stumbled out of the shower, spent, replete, and ready for more on their king-size bed. The room was so small, it was literally wall-to-wall mattress. They had no room for a dresser or nightstands. A television hung on the wall.
    Much later, Julie mumbled, “Thank goodness for flat screens.” She was lying in Brad’s arms, the down comforter twisted around them.
    “What?” He looked down at her.
    “The TV.” She gestured at the screen against the