The last guest had left, and the garden, so live just minutes ago, went quiet until the cicadas punctured its stillness with their chorus. The warm and humid evening air was saturated with the scent of Jasmin, making it hard to breathe. Tony Henderson collected the empty wine and beer bottles and threw them into the bin. He looked around, picked up the glasses from the tables, and brought them into the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen counter, watching his wife Dana, his arms crossed over his chest.
‘The party was a success,’ Dana sighed with relief. She started stacking the glasses into the dishwasher, expecting Tony’s comment, but he was quiet, as still as a statue. She looked at him.
‘Are you OK, my love? I think we’ve done well, don’t you?’ Then she saw the small muscles of his jaw working hard; she knew him all too well. Something was bothering him.
‘Are you OK?’
‘I saw you talking to Brian,’ he said, coming alive from his like a statue position, his arms still crossed over his chest.
‘Yes, I spoke to him and to other guests, too. We had a party, remember?’
‘It was about how you looked at him.’
‘What about it? I listened to what he had to say about my project.’
‘He’s not interested in your bloody project. You were looking at each other with open adoration, and everyone could see that,’ Tony said. His expression turned into an ugly mask. He narrowed his eyes.
She knew that look on his face, his flared nostrils, the redness spreading to his hairline.
‘That’s what you wanted to see, Tony. You want me to defend myself, but no, not this time,’ she said, her heart thumping in her temples. ‘I’ve got better things to do than defend myself against something that has nothing to do with me.’ She shut the door on the dishwasher and stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the screen door behind her.
The night was warm, with the new moon casting shimmers above the town. The cicadas’ choir stopped for a moment as if gauging Dana’s mood. They started again, increasing their pitch. She took a deep breath. Brian said the project has no sound grounds to take off. He said the feasibility study was not properly done. ‘It’s doomed from the start.’ Brian’s words echoed in her mind.
‘If he can only understand how important the project is to me, he might change his mind. I have to talk to him again,’ Dana sighed deeply and returned to the house.