Gracie looked at the television set out of the corner of her eye; she could bear only the slimmest glimmer of Wiggle…
Gracie found herself wondering if any of them were single. Gracie wondered, if she married a Wiggle, about their first dance at their wedding. Would Gracie too be forced to wave her arms over her head, to wrestle her hips into some sort of rhythmic motion? "Would it be all right if I called Mr. Kenny's office?" Raymond asked. The man gave supplicant brown nosers a bad name.
"Raymond," Gracie said, "we did have a dinner party last week. And the flowers were sensational."
Gracie heard the gasp just as she hung up. She suddenly realized that if she were getting a divorce, one of the benefits was that she wouldn't have the need for a florist except for special occasions. Raymond was probably already asking Kenny's assistant how the recipient liked the roses and giving tips on distilled water and aspirin.