Late for Dinner

‘Are you ready?’ Leah asked, nervously clopping down the hallway in her high heels, struggling to thread an earring onto her lobe. Her tight dress made her strides short, which only added to the nervous, frantic energy she was carrying.

Mike barely heard her, staring intently up at the staircase he was leaning against. Leah sighed, exasperated, and threw her purse at him.

He caught it with a start and turned to look back at her with a grin.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ he laughed. ‘I was just thinking – do we need a balustrade?’

‘What?’ Leah frowned, earring successfully attached. ‘Come on, we’re gonna be late.’

‘Just, hear me out,’ he said, catching her by the arm as she tried to walk past him to the front door. ‘Picture it: a glass stair balustrade, running all the way up there.’

He waved his hand to accentuate his vision, but Leah wrenched her arm away.

‘Is that really what you want to be thinking about right now?’

‘Would you prefer I think about how much your dad hates me?’

‘I’d like it to be on your mind,’ she said, gesturing to the minute hand on her watch.

‘Relax, relax, we have plenty of time,’ Mike scoffed. ‘I wonder if I should bring this up with him?’

‘Why?’ Leah shook her head. ‘Why would you bring it up with him?’

‘He used to be friends with a glazier operating in Melbourne. He might be interested.’

‘He might be more distracted by it being his birthday party, is just what I’m thinking.’

‘It’s a fair point.’

‘Honestly, I’m not even sure why you’re bringing it up with me.’

‘Alright,’ he frowned, ‘I said it was a fair point.’

He sighed and glanced down at his own watch.

‘Huh, would you look at that? Mine is ten minutes slower than yours.’


‘Yep, coming immediately,’ he said, grabbing his jacket and following her out of the door.