“It’s five below zero,” I reminded him. “Every time the door opens at the 126, it’s a refrigerator in there. You want me to shiver through the whole movie?”

“I want my wife to look sexy when we go out. That’s not asking a lot.”

“What difference does it make?” I protested. “No one will be looking at me. All the girls will be looking at Sean Connery, and all the guys will be looking at Kim Basinger.”

“Ajax will be looking at you. He always does. I want him to see what he can’t have.”

I shook my head, and exasperation crept into my voice. “Will you let it go about Ajax? He’s just trying to drive you crazy. He’s been doing that since you were kids.”

Ricky began unbuttoning his shirt. “Fine. If you’re going to be like that, we’ll stay home.”

I swore under my breath.

Yes, I could have stood my ground, but I wasn’t in the mood for a fight. Not that night. I wanted to drown my sorrows and not worry about anything else. I was in the mood to go out, to laugh, to forget, to drink. Definitely to drink. I wasn’t looking forward to the week ahead. I’d made up my mind like a New Year’s resolution to split up with Ricky for good, and I’d set up an appointment with Norm in a few days to talk about how to do it. But I wasn’t ready to tell Ricky yet, and until I did, I was determined to keep the fragile truce between us.

So I went back to our closet and stripped off my clothes. Ricky sat on the bed and watched me. I switched bras, putting on one that pushed up what little I had to push up. I found a flowered sundress that came only halfway down my thighs. It had poofy shoulders and a scoop neckline and would have been perfect for a Fourth of July picnic, not a late January night at the 126. I slipped it over my head and then did a pirouette that fluttered the hem.

“How’s this? Satisfied?”

“Hell yeah. Was that so hard?”

I summoned a fake smile at his reaction. I was already freezing.

That was how we went to the bar, with my arms and legs pebbled over with goose bumps and my nipples trying to burst through my dress so they could get back home and nestle inside a sweater. Ricky got what he wanted. I was definitely the sexiest girl there, because everyone else was buried under layers of flannel. I figured I could keep my long wool coat on to stay warm, but Ricky took it away when we sat down, which left me feeling like a Florida flamingo who’d been shipped to an Alaska glacier.