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Waiting for the Girls Upstairs

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"Oh, Phyllis, he sent me roses!" Sally pressed one to her nose.

"No, he didn't."

"What?" She turned the card and looked up. "You did?"

"Your table needed more than makeup. Something as pretty as you." Phyllis shrugged.

Sally laughed, a bright, gay sound. "Thank you." She hugged Phyllis, heedless of their half-shed costumes.

Phyllis kissed her on the lips.

"What -- what was that?"

"You're too good for that boy."

"I don't know what you mean." Sally blushed.

"Yes, you do."

"They're waiting." Sally glanced at the door.

"Let them." Phyllis embraced her. Sally gave in, sighing, and kissed her.