“You sure you don’t want bacon and eggs with that?” Another eye roll.

“No, thanks, honey. That will be fine.” He was involved with the paper again. “Did you hear about that fire out by the park?” He read her the opening paragraph. “Can you believe that arson is a strong possibility?”

Ginny went to the kitchen, but on her way glanced at the bird feeder out the sliding glass door to the deck. She could hear a squabble going on. “The squirrel is back.”

Fred slammed his paper down, pushed to his feet, and muttering imprecations, some more colorful than others, banged on the door as he slid it open. “Well, you…”

She knew the squirrel was long gone, usually with a flick of his tail. Somehow being flipped off by a squirrel incensed her usually placid husband. She wasn’t sure which antics tickled her more—his or the squirrel’s.

After they’d finished breakfast, he cleared the table while she loaded the dishwasher, another of those daily chores they had learned to divide up to keep life flowing more evenly.

“If you have any commitments next week, you need to give me a list because I am calling the doctor next.” She added a hefty dose of firmness to her voice.

He was an expert at giving her disgruntled looks but only muttered as he retrieved his pocket calendar. Flipping through the pages, he finally said, “No mornings, but Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday afternoons are free.”

“All right. Now remember, you promised.”

“Just say I agreed. You know how I hate making promises.”

“Nothing can push this out of the way,” she insisted.

“Just do it and make sure you write it in.” He handed her his calendar and headed for the bathroom to shave.

The brief conversation with her friend, Ann, the receptionist at the doctor’s office, lengthened when she mentioned the UFO meeting. Business done, she hung up and wrote, Doctor’s appt., 2 p.m., on Friday, May 5, in both their pocket calendars, then went downstairs to her office in the walkout basement to write it on her desk calendar too. She huffed a sigh. That Friday was taken. Now she’d have to change her afternoon meeting to some other time, all because she’d forgotten to write the meeting in her pocket calendar. She could hear their son’s voice: “Just use the calendar on your cell; you always have that with you.” Right, easy for him to say. Fred had tried it for a while but said he could do it ten times faster with pen and paper. Especially since she did most of his bookings.

Back upstairs, she tapped on the bathroom door and opened it enough to lay the book on the counter. “Two p.m., on Friday, May fifth. Maybe we can go out for an early-bird dinner afterward.”

“Why don’t you call and ask MJ and Daryl if they want to join us. I need to talk with him about that kayak he’s working on.”