seen!" Connie cried. "I told you at the time I couldn't understand it."
I nodded. "The silver platter again."
"But then—" Connie began doubtfully. "Oh, Pete! You make it sound as though there were absolutely nothing in life to wish for!"
"Well, is there anything to wish for that we don't have already? Or that we can't earn for ourselves if we want it so badly?" I paused a minute, holding my breath. This was the moment. But I was on dangerous ground again, and I knew it. Everything depended on the answer Connie would make to my next question. "Connie, answer me this honestly. What were the happiest moments you've ever spent in your life?"
I waited, breath held. The djinn watched anxiously, too, sensing the crisis.
Connie didn't even have to stop to think, bless her! She smiled and said softly, "How can you ask, Pete? This afternoon, of course. On the beach. Just before I found the bottle."
I waited again, gladness now in my heart. It was the answer I'd hoped for, the answer I would have given myself had the same question been asked of me.
"Just before I found the bottle!" Connie repeated softly, her eyes widening. "And we've been squabbling ever since!" She rose then, and threw herself into my arms. "Oh, Peter! Forgive me! We haven't been really happy since! I wish it were this afternoon again before I'd found the bottle!"
The djinn seemed to smile just before he dissolved.
The sun blazed brightly so that I was forced to squint against it, and there came the sharp salt fishy smell of the sea to sting my nostrils, and the sand was hot beneath me.
Connie raised her head from my stomach, and looked about in bewilderment. She dug furiously into the sand for a moment, but there was nothing there. She turned then, and saw me watching her with quizzical eyes.
"Sorry?" I asked.
Perhaps there was fleeting regret in her face, but only for an instant, really. "Oh, Pete! You know I'm not!"
She nuzzled her face against mine. There was no one on the beach. No hovering, eavesdropping djinn. I kissed her lingeringly. It was wonderful. But after she caught her breath, she stared out at the sea for a long moment. And then she looked back at me.
"Just the same," she said grimly, "I will never, never, never forgive Bill Hastings for it all!"
Now I ask you!
Aren't women the darnedest?
