Hi folks, just a fun little vignette based on a real life experience, and considerably embellished, of course.
Thanks to Britease for reviewing and editing this work.
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I was in Las Vegas with my wife of three years, Leanna. She and I had eaten a late lunch and we were wandering hand in hand through the bar area of one of the major hotels. Then there was a voice I hadn't heard in years.
"Hello, sweetie pie!"
I froze. I gripped Leanna's hand tighter. The voice could only be Mary's, and I recognized her British accent. To Americans, Brits have an accent. I worked around several of them in a previous job, Mary being one of them, and became familiar with the sound of her voice.
I slowly turned around. Yup, that was Mary. "Well, hello, sugar plum!" I answered. Leanna looked at me questioningly. I was smiling, and so was Mary.
Mary set her drink down, got off the bar stool and gave me a quick hug, something she had never done before. "Is this lovely lady your wife?" she asked.
"Mary, I'd like you to meet my wife Leanna," I said.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Leanna," Mary answered, and extended her hand. Leanna, still puzzled, shook Mary's hand and stammered, "Likewise, Mary. How do you know each other?"
"We were colleagues at X company years ago," she answered with a laugh. "Once we had a difference of opinion of some sort about something at work, I don't even recall what it was, and with no little sarcasm in my voice, I called Davey here sweetie pie. He retaliated by calling me sugar plum. Those nicknames stayed until he left the company and moved away while he and his then-wife were divorcing."
Leanna, still looking doubtful, slowly nodded her head in understanding.
I didn't recall the nature of our disagreement back then. It wasn't major, but we frequently communicated on work matters, and Mary always called me sweetie pie, and I always called her sugar plum.
Mary had always struck me as someone who could hurt a guy. Physically as well as emotionally. Once I told her that the guy she ended up with would have to be an eight foot tall lumberjack to be able to handle her.
It was only then that I noticed a wedding ring on Mary's hand.
"Mary, I notice you're wearing a ring. Did you finally get that eight foot tall lumberjack?"
"Silly boy," Mary giggled. "Of course he's not like that."
Leanna, recognizing that there was no threat to her, joined the conversation. "What's he like, Mary?"
"Well," Mary said and paused for a moment, "He's a lot like Davey here."
