“I saw that.”
“Saw what?” James asked, confused.
She leaned forward and whispered, “you got an eyeful of the waitress’s bosom.”
“Come on, Betty. The diner tables are that height. It’s not like I tried to look.”
She pursed her lips. “Swell. So you did look… and then you ordered chicken breast.”
James laughed. “I only have eyes for you.”
“Whatever you say,” she muttered as she turned her attention to the jukebox play list.
“Who left the toilet seat up again?”
James peeked over his newspaper. “If it wasn’t you, then I guess it was me.”
“All those years I blamed it on the kids…” Betty said, exasperated.
“Perhaps we have a ghost?” He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s annoying and I’d appreciate it if you could put it down in the future.”
He chuckled. “You get that straight from the therapist?” His grin creased the wrinkles around his eyes.
“Whatever.” She turned and left the room before he could see her smile.
“The doctor said you had a good day.” Betty clasped his left hand.
“I s’pose so. But I reckon I won’t be running a marathon.”
Her lip quivered. “Stop. You could get better.”
“Honey, emphysema doesn’t get better.”
“I’ll help you with your lunch.” Betty swung the tray over his lap. “What did you order?” she asked as she reached for the domed lid covering the plate.
James grinned, a mischievous look in his eye. “Chicken breast.” He winked. “Can you stand right there?”
Tears threatened to fall when she remembered their first date sixty-one years ago. “Whatever,” she whispered with mock annoyance. “I only have eyes for you.”
This is my response to Trifecta’s weekly challenge, which is to write a piece between 33 and 333 words using the following word/definition:
WHATEVER: (adverb) to show that something is not important.
The challenge is open to everyone, so if you’re interested in joining in, click on the tricycle image above to view Trifecta’s site and link your post.
I hope you have a beautiful Monday!