“Nightowl,” he says.
You look up from your book and smile a weak smile. “I just can’t stay in bed with my husband through the night,” you explain before returning to your book.
He should just go back to his work, whatever work a graveyard shift hotel desk clerk might have, but he’s not going to. He just got married and he wants to know if his wife does that. “Do all women do that?” he asks.
You tell him you’re sorry you bothered him and you’ll move to the business center.
“Do all women do that?” he asks again.
“I’m just a light sleeper,” you say, trying to put some comfort into your voice.
He asks if you were always a light sleeper. You don’t answer, which gives him your answer loud and clear.
“What stirs you?” he asks.
You close your book. “My eyes snap open like someone flicked a light-switch,” you say. “And I slither out of bed and watch my sleeping husband, feeling like I’m in control, like we’re engaged in some kind of war of wits and by waking up and living a few hours of conscious life without him even knowing it, I’ve got the drop on him.”
He’s terrified. “What do you think will happen if you sleep the whole night through,” he asks.
You shrug. “Not sure since I haven’t let it happen one time in the past fourteen years of marriage,” you say.
He asks again, “Do all women do that?”
“I don’t know if your wife does that,” you say. “Maybe she doesn’t need to since you work nights.”
“I’m just filling in tonight," he says.
Go to his desk and place your hand on his. "I love my husband,” tell him. “I just don’t want him to win.”
“Win at what?”
You can’t help but smile, he’s so adorably naive.
“Why, win at marriage of course,” you say.
Let go of his hand and go to the business center so he can make a frantic phone call home now.
Happy The Lobby, 3:45 AM Day!