CJ looked down at his wife as the doorbell rang for the second time. “No,” Theresa said, sitting up in the bed, where her head had been resting on CJ’s chest while they both watched television. CJ looked at the clock. No one ever dropped by their house unannounced, and rarely did he go to his door after nine. But the persistent ringing continued, and when he didn’t answer soon enough, knocking ensued. This had to be an emergency of some kind, and CJ pulled himself into a seated position. He slung his legs over the edge of the bed and began the task of covering his nude body. “Honey, you need to be careful,” Theresa said as she watched CJ button his silk pajama shirt, pull on his matching shorts, and slide his feet into his slippers. “I will.” Although his wife didn’t look reassured, CJ gave her a smile, and then quietly walked from the master bedroom to the living room. He stood still for a moment, thinking that he was hearing a voice on the other side of the door. “CJ .
