I spread the cloth over the bed and then I took the velvet-covered restraints from the plain brown Womyn’s Sexual Health Collective bag and looped them around the bedposts. The sales counselor had given me a brochure about attaching the restraints, but the illustrations looked hopelessly convoluted.

If my mother Regina had let me join the Girl Scouts, I would be better prepared to tie up my hunky new boyfriend.

I went to the closet and pushed my dresses on the rack, looking for something pretty to wear. One of Ian’s shirts was there. I took it from the hanger and brought it close to my face, inhaling his scent, immediately missing and wanting him. I put the shirt in the back of the closet, where I wouldn’t see it.

I decided to wear a cute lemon yellow dress that I bought at a shop owned by a Stitching & Bitching amiga. It had a corset-inspired bodice and a narrow skirt. I wore it with a narrow black patent leather belt, black peep-toe patent leather sling-backs, and black rubber bracelets and earrings.

I slicked on red lipstick and liquid black eyeliner for a dominatrix/bumblebee look, but I resisted the urge to cut straight bangs because Nancy claimed that cutting one’s own bangs was the first step to madness.

I went to the garage downstairs, got in my truck, and drove to the restaurant, telling myself how much fun it would be to have Wil here and show him my town.

He wasn’t at the restaurant yet, so I waited on the sofa by the entrance. After ten minutes, I took the hostess’s suggestion and had a drink at the bar.

I chatted with the couple next to me, but kept looking at the mirror above the bar for Wil to arrive.

After thirty minutes passed, I called his cell phone. He didn’t answer, and I left a message saying that I would wait another fifteen minutes. The couple next to me went to their table for dinner, and more people came and left the restaurant. Even if Wil was delayed, lost, or having a difficult time finding parking, he could have called.

I nursed my second drink slowly. He was an hour late and I felt stupid staying any longer. I left a large tip and drove home cursing him.

As I walked upstairs to my loft, I thought, He is so inconsiderate. I went to unlock my front door thinking, He’s flaky and irresponsible, but the door was already unlocked.

Had I left it unlocked, or had Ian returned?

When I stepped in, I smelled the beeswax candles and froze. I walked inside slowly and called, “Hello?”

The candles were flickering and there was red wine in the glasses on the cocktail table.