Reaching in my pocket, I found an old peppermint. Slipping closer to the fence, I offered it, and to my surprise he accepted. Whew. Silence. For a moment the coast was clear. Then the back door opened and the porch light came on. I could see through the trees it was Graham. Standing ever so kingly in a gold emblem–emblazoned, burgundy cotton robe, even in moral question Graham had style.

“What are you doing now?” Gail asked.

“Needing somewhere to hide. Graham is walking toward the fence but there’s nowhere to hide,” I replied as I frantically searched for cover.

“Is there a trash can nearby?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, get in it!”

“Gail, have you lost your mind?! I am not getting in the trash can!” There had to be a point where I drew the line and this was it. There was no way in hell I was climbing inside of a garbage can.

“Girl, get in the trash can! If I’m wrong about Graham, which I seriously doubt, and he is on the up and up, he’ll never forgive you. And if he catches you, you can forget about getting married! Get in the trash can!”

Sinking to an all time low, I slowly, quietly, eased the lid from the trash can, climbed inside, and lowered it closed.

“What are you doing now?” Gail asked.

“Shhh. I’m in the trash can.”

“You in the trash can?! Have you lost your mind?!”

“Well, you told me to get in the trash can!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you was stupid enough to listen!”

“Shhhh! And it’s not a trash can anyway, it’s a recycle bin. Okay, he’s gone.” Quietly, I climbed out of the trash can and spotted a window above me.

“Now what are you doing?” Gail asked.

“Trying to pull myself on top of this garbage can so I can see inside.”

“Be careful, girl. They got alarms on windows. I know, that’s how I got caught.”

Slowly I peered over the windowsill, hoping to go unnoticed. Finally, I was able to see inside.

“Gail, it’s beautiful. Even more beautiful than the outside.”

“Any panties on the floor?” Gail asked.

“No. It’s spotless. Like you could eat off the floors. His fireplace is lit but nobody’s in the room. Wait. It’s him.” My voice fell to a whisper. “There he is, walking in the room. He’s got a portfolio in one hand, and a coffee mug in the other. He’s sitting down.”

“By himself?” Gail asked.

“Yes, by himself. Gail, he’s alone. You were wrong, girl. Graham is alone, preparing for his business meeting. Just like he said he would be.”