Business acquaintance

Outside a man sits in a wicker chair

with his legs crossed at the knee

flicking ashes from a cigar. 

He thumbs through an address book.

I'm preparing brownies for a party.

The chain tethered to the ceiling fan

spins in a flat oval. My wife has her nose

buried in a checkbook.

She's thinking about the man outside

and his address book. She's thinking about 

calling him a business acquaintance, 

saying something like, "I met him once.

At a tech meeting in Buchel." This would

be an excuse to go outside 

and talk about their jobs 

until their cups of coffee get cold.

My wife gets up from the table

and I notice she's wearing my slippers.

I tell she feels bad that she's wearing them

and she knows it upsets me. She's more upset

about the unbalanced checkbook.