"Untitled" by Cara Strickland

It could have been the middle of the day. The coffee was on. Light streamed through the window. He whistled as he watched me, waiting for our visitor to leave. He had done his part, the license was signed and sealed. The other two had gone home already, but I could tell, he was hoping for a cup of coffee and a chat.

He was an old friend of the family after all. 

 

My husband (would that ever sound natural?) continued to whistle and began to tap his foot in time. I loved him for not throwing out the old judge, though I knew he'd like nothing better than to be alone now, possibly forever. I tried to seem sympathetic to both at once. Truth was, I wasn't sure I was ready for the judge to leave just yet. 

 

"Coffee?" I asked the judge, my voice trembling a little. 

 

"Don't mind if I do," he said. "If it's not too much trouble." 

 

My husband caught my eye and must have read my soul. 

 

"I'm going to bed," he said. "Goodnight Judge." 

 

I poured the coffee, my eyes on his retreating form, nearing the bedroom. Our bedroom. 

 

"You know what, Judge, I'm gonna head to bed too," I heard myself say. "Getting married has taken it out of me."

 

He smiled and left without a word, leaving his coffee on the table.

 

~ Fiction Inspired by Edward Hopper's Midnight Meeting ~