Summer's Sun
“What have you been doing all day?”
“Not much really.”
“Not much? I see.” I stared at her. “Didn’t I pay your Uni fees? Eight years, wasn’t it? And… not much?”
She stared back, and sighed. “Umm, I must have done something worthwhile. Let’s see…” She looked around slowly. “Oh, I arranged some flowers in that vase.”
“Ahh, and I picked that fruit this morning. And painted that wheatgrass on the wall.” I looked from the flowers to the wall, and back again. I looked at her.
“And I knew the weather would be nice, so I opened the doors early, before you woke,” she continued.
My jaw dropped, and I gaped at her. “You knew that, huh? That the weather would be good?”
“Uh-huh,” She beamed. Her smile always had been stunning.
“No work today?”, I asked.
“No, it’s Saturday, silly.” She paused. “Don’t worry; you’ll be well enough to work again soon.”
Useless to try to fight with her. “I still don’t get it. What have you done?”
Her smile broke into a warm, loving laugh. “I brought summer to you, Joe!”