I was still too taken aback to respond. She looked a little flushed and smelled like tequila and cigarettes, but that was normal for girls' night out. Every Thursday, she and her two best friends would go to the theater or simply have dinner and a bit too much to drink at one of the trendy bars in town. What wasn't normal is that my elegant wife had just walked in the door followed by an attractive man in a well-tailored suit. "Man" was perhaps a bit generous. He looked maybe 25; about a decade younger than us. "Who's he?" I managed to get out. "He's here to help us." She hesitated "Of course only if you want." She dropped her gaze on those last few words and her shoulder slumped slightly. Suddenly she didn't look quite so confident and mischievous. I adore my wife when she has that take-on-the-world look. The mundane weight of kids and work made it appear less frequently, but I had glimpsed it again when she marched in the door. My response here was crucial – a slight hesitation, a tone of disappointment at my reaction had crept into her voice.
