Dan hadn't spoken a word to Daisy since she had returned from the restroom. She was used to the silent treatment, but for God's sake, this was their 20th anniversary. He had even picked the place, a high-priced restaurant where they piled a little food in the center of the plate and drizzled sauce around it forming a happy face.
And there sat Dan, eyes half closed, staring at his plate and refusing to pick up his fork. What had happened to them, Daisy asked herself, the tears close to the surface. She remembered when they had first met-she the seventeen-year-old shoe clerk and him, the postman who delivered the mail to the store each day. Love at first sight, she thought.
Soon they were an item, unable to keep their hands off each other. They quickly married and settled down to a normal life. Babies came along and the spark began to cool. Romantic getaways and intimate dinners became a thing of the past.
Now, when they spoke, they discussed his high blood pressure and bad back. She struggled with her dying hormones and low thyroid. What had happened to the couple who used to enjoy long conversations over a glass of wine? The kids were grown now, heading off to college. Soon they would be free to do all the things they had dreamed of years ago. But there Dan sat, not even speaking to her.
The waitress suddenly appeared at the table. "How's the food?" she asked. Daisy threw down her fork, fuming. She had had enough.
"How would I know? He won't even touch it!" she spat in anger. "What's your problem, Dan?"
"Sir?" the waitress gently touched the man's arm. Dan fell across the table without a word, dead. Daisy screamed.
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