**Writer’s Note:** This piece of fiction contains mature language and content. If this is not what you want to read, please choose something else.
Part 2
When she got home late that afternoon, Callie sang out, “Lucy, I’m home! I gotta lotta ‘splainin’ to do!” She shed her jacket, and it floated to the coathook.
Something smelled really good. The table was set. It looked like he had used a sheet in place of a tablecloth. A large candle stood burning on a little saucer in the middle of the table. She tried to force down a smile. It was a sex candle – it was meant for dribbling wax on a person – it was kind of kinky, and she hadn’t had the guts yet to try it on herself. Despite some mis-steps, he was setting up a nice dinner. She recognized what he was doing and started to get emotional. Dinner was in pots and pans on the stove.
“Who’s Lucy?” asked Chris.
“You don’t know Lucille Ball…?”
“I’m kidding!” A paper napkin waved in the air over the chair closest to her. “Please have a seat, ma’am.”