Sigh, the dude-ette abides!
Then the doorbell went.
I turned to the paramour. 'I'm not answering it.'
'Okay' he said, nakedly.
Seconds later it rang again. Persistent buggers.
When the paramour's mobile phone rang seconds after that I groaned.
He located his pants and phone and answered.
'Lo?' He glanced at me, surprised. 'Sure, she's...right here.'
He passed me the phone and mouthed the horribliest (new word) of words.
I took the phone from him. 'Etheline?'
'Are you up there?'
Where?' I sit up. 'How did you get this number?'
'You gave it to me.'
'No I didn't.'
'Well, I stored it when you called him from it one day.'
'What, he could have been a mass murderer!' She snorts, 'look, are you up there?'
'No' I lied. 'What do you want?'
'I want to talk to you about our mother.'
'Oh no Etheline.' I grab my kimono and put it on. 'I don't think so.'
'Well tough shit, I've had her over at my house all day, going on, complaining. She's driving me up the walls. You've got to make up.'
'What if I don't want to make up? We're not kids, what are you going to do, drag us together and make us shake hands?'
'Give her a ring, tell her you're sorry, that's all she wants.'
'I'm not sorry at all.'
'Just tell her you are.'
'Don't Cat me, and mind your own business Etheline.'
'It is my business!' She yells. 'I'm sick listening to her going on about you. Ring the bloody woman. Tell her you're sorry.'
'I'm not sorry! She drives me up the walls too.'
'Look,' she changes tack, wheedling now. 'I know you, you'll let this drag on and next thing you know it will be another five years' and then straight back to real Etheline- 'and let me tell you lady, I"m not spending the rest of my days listening to her go on about you. You're going to apologise -even if you don't mean it.'
'I won't do it.'
'You can't make me!'
'I am not apologising to that woman.'
Paramour sighs and begins to look for his clothes. He put his pants on, picks up our glasses and carries them out to the kitchen.
Sunday is officially over.