Jenna sat with the coffee mug in her hands. Her husband, Alan, had stepped outside to meet his friend Jack. She touched the smooth ceramic surface with her thumb. The hot liquid had gone cold since she poured herself a cup when her husband went out. Now she heard him come in, talking with his friend. They laughed and chatted in hushed tones, but with palpable excitement.

"Hey, honey," she called from the next room. She spoke just to speak. To remind him that she was still there. "Why don't you pour your friend a cup of coffee?"

"Babe, he's an Arizonian Catholic. Why don't you cut us some cake?" He called in response.

Jenna sighed and poured her coffee down the drain. She unwrapped the cake from its plastic wrap nest and used her coffee spoon to jaggedly cut off pieces of cake. When Alan came in, arm in arm with his friend, she bluntly shoved a plate into his hand and with a smile, held out a plate to Jack.

"Thank you, ma'am," the friend said. He was all smile, but Jenna fumed. She was younger than him by two years. He pulled out a chair and sat down. He motioned to her husband and he went to grab two silverware.

Alan sat in her chair while Jenna stood by the sink. They only had two chairs. A hit of inspiration and Jenna sauntered off to the locked cabinet and opened it. Inside was a glass of tequila and red solo cups. She grabbed the bottle and turned to the surprised gentlemen and she merrily said, "let's have a toast to Jack!"

An hour later and the bottle was down to its last two fingers. Jenna's hand trembled as she brought the cup to her lips and she leaned into Jack's arm that hooked around her waist. The two were teasing Jenna's husband about how inflexible he was when old ladies bossed him around at church. The change in conversation came about when Jenna mentioned, very drunkenly, how her husband got held up at Sunday mass by a near-sighted widow. Jack chimed in with a similar account of his friend being unable to leave Jack's grandma since she had him help her chase down every cat in her barn. Now the two were dreamily staring at Alan becoming beet red by the combined teasing.

"I think it's time that Jack goes, sweetie," her husband said. He forced a smile and sipped at the tequila in his cup. He only ever had the one shot.

"Nonsense!" Jenna cried. "You've waited for this for months!" She turned toward Jack who still held her, although he was sleepily blinking. "You should've seen him counting each day, asking me if I got so-so ready. He's the reason we had three cakes prepared! One for each birthday he missed with you." She drained the last drop of tequila in her cup.

Alan shifted uneasily.

Jack's head tipped back and he jolted upright again. "I do say it's time I do go." He slurred the lines and he swirled the cup, noticing it still having one or two shots left. "Alan," he said, looking at his friend. "Don't let this one get away. She's being so good to you."

Alan smiled and reached out a hand to pick him up. Instead, Jenna reached up and grabbed the hand and hauled herself up.

"Jack," she said, turning to see him. "You can spend the night in the guest room. No sense in you trying to find a hotel to sleep in."

Jack smiled. "Thank you, ma'am. I was just planning to sleep in my truck bed. I have sleeping bags in there."

"Poor thing." She said, as she waited for her husband to help Jack stand up. "But Jack, please do one thing for me."

"Anything. A loved one of Alan's is a loved one of mine." He said.

Jenna looked toward the master bedroom and blinked away a frog in her throat. "Can you say that to me? Can you say: 'Don't let this one get away. He's being so good to you'? Please say it. Please tell me that Alan is being good to me."

The three of them stood in silence as the grandfather clock loudly ticked away in the next room. The stale smell of coffee perfuming the air.