Open House

Open House

“Are you?”

“Maybe, are you?”

The two stood eye to eye. They studied each other for a few moments.

“I knew you in high school. You sat behind me in English.”

“You drove a red car, the only red car in school. I always wanted a ride in that car.”

Margie took Henry’s hand in hers. “You know, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“You know you lie.” Henry dropped her hand. “You hated me in high school. You called me ‘Hank the Hippo’. You told me I’d never ride in your car since it wasn’t a circus train.”

“Did I really say that? That was hateful. You aren’t Hank the hippo now, not to me.”

Henry walked to the window. “Margie, you were a goddess in high school. I dreamt of you each night. Now here we are, making a deal together. Who knew!”

“I design wonderful houses now, Henry. This is one of my designs.”

“And I sell houses, Margie. This house is one of mine. I am the listing agent.”

They walked around the room. Margie plumped pillows on the couch, straightened pictures on the walls. Henry arranged the listing fliers on the kitchen counter, fanned out his business cards next to them.

“Are we ready?”

“I think we are, Henry. It’s time.”

They shook hands. Then the open house began.


W/C 223