Before the Storm

It was Thursday night, date night. Married for seven years, they credited these Thursday nights as their saving grace when asked by friends how she and Simon were able to keep their marriage together. Tonight they had reservations for sushi, a party of four. They were meeting up with Joan and Harry, a couple they had set up, the only one of their pairings that amounted to anything. Joan and Harry had been seeing one another for a year now and this dinner was a kind of celebration and a kind of thank you. The sushi was on them.
Dinner was at seven thirty and it was already six fifty - still enough time to get there on time, but just enough. She checked her makeup again, the third time in the last ten minutes, and as she had done before, she took a step back and smiled as she admired the dress she had found not two days ago at her favorite vintage clothing store - a classic silhouette, probably from the fifties, whose style had become in vogue once again. It was a step up from her normally more reserved, unassuming style and while she was modest to a fault around others, she held a kind of private pride and joy at her find. A simple string of pearls around her neck would have been perfect, but even if she had owned such a luxury, she would not have worn them - that would just be too much, a toe beyond the line of what was called for tonight.
At ten after seven she called ahead to her friends, explaining that Steven was running late and that there was no way they could make the seven thirty reservation. Joan thanked her for the call, said they would see if the time could be moved and that they'd see them as soon as they could get there. Normally not one for anger, she nevertheless could feel the tension torqued in opposite directions by anxiety and anticipation, compounded by her preference for promptness, by his habitual tardiness. She didn't want a fight to spoil the night so she did her best to contain herself.