we're good

The woman in Boomer’s bed was up, now, showered, made up, dressed. She shimmied a bit, adjusting her sundress, pulled the pleats straight, looked up, studied her face in the mirror, one more time, wiped at her lipstick, wiped clean her teeth, pulled on a pair of dark, wrap-around sunglasses, checked the look, then pulled them off and hung them in the neckline of her dress. She went into the bedroom, pulled her cell phone from her purse. She had three messages. She listened to them all, then dialed one of the numbers. She didn’t wait to hear the voice on the other end. No need. She simply said: “We’re good.” Then, she hung up.