Enough
The party was winding down, and Don observed comfortably from his chair in the corner. He toyed with the notion of picking up a book, but thought it might be rude to be found reading at his own party. Throwing parties, he reconciled, was never about the host anyway. Martha found him and sat on his lap, taking his drink from his hand to place it on the table on the end. ‘Thank you,’ she said, kissing him. ‘What for?’ ‘For having our friends over. I know you’ve been busy with your big trial,...