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"I snatched the canister off the mini fridge. "You better hope I come back alive, or else my spirit will pester you to death."With a smug look on his dumb, handsome face, my husband declared, "Silver lining: we would be together forever."I slammed the door shut.Once I found the vending nook on my floor, I wasn't alone for long."My wish came true," Quigley said as he entered the alcove behind me, carrying his bucket. "I heard your door creak open. And it was you."I poured the water into the drain. "The cubes melted." I took in his rumpled hair, his bare chest, his pink sweatpants. "Do those belong to Amber?" I pinched them without asking, since she's taking one of her long vacation showers with no munchkins to bug her. I forgot to pack my pajama bottoms. I considered cruising through the halls in only my boxer briefs."Near his waistband, I detected the hint of a happy trail. "Did you anticipate objections?" I expected tips." He wiggled his pelvis. "Singles, fives. Twenties, if you're a. Reluctantly I folded the nightie, replaced it and made the bed, tostandard, around it. As much as I'd love to have thrown my uniform asideto let my skin feel the cool wash of that satin over it, being caught insuch a state would have been professional suicide.I tidied her bathroom, picking up all her cleansers and gels for thesimple pleasure of touching them, and imagining they were mine, that Iwould use such things to remove my make up after a long day. How would itfeel to run that brush through my own long hair? To plait it, or pin itinto an elegant bun or French Roll with the spare pins and clips she hadunder the mirror.Hopefully the rigours and communal living enforced during my upcomingmilitary training would focus my mind on reality and not these femininefantasies. I could concentrate on overcoming the challenges thoseinstructors were going to throw at me every day, fill my life with newrules and routines that wouldn't involve picking up a lipstick belongingto a woman I had.
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