“Smells good,” said Felice.
“It’s risotto.”
“I know.”
Ralph was at the stove, stirring with a wooden spoon. They had been together for five months. That Friday night, he’d promised her a good meal, homemade and possibly romantic. Who doesn’t like risotto with mushrooms?
She closed the back door and went to the refrigerator with her bottle of Pinot Grigio.
“Have you seen Frodo?” he asked. Where was the Labrador retriever, especially with food being prepared? Some half-cooked rice had fallen on the artificial wooden tiles by Ralph’s left shoe. A Labrador retriever will eat anything on the floor. It can always be thrown up later.
“He was in the backyard as I came in,” said Felice. She made a face at the contents of the refrigerator, resting the bottle on its side. “He was chewing on your wallet.”
“My wallet?” Ralph felt for his back pocket.
“He’d gotten into your cards first.”
“My credit cards? Why didn’t you do something?”
“He’d thrown them up all over the back step by the time I walked from the car. I recognized a bit of your Visa, I think.”
She paused for a moment. Could it have been a bank card?
David Sydney is a physician. He writes fiction in and out of the EHR (Electronic Health Record).