Coffee Shop Delight

Squeals. Hugs. Laughter. "How ARE you?" I looked up from half way across the room where I sat by the fireplace reading the paper. The two middle-age women were hugging and squealing by the front door where one had been sitting with a group and the other had just appeared.

"And the kids?" "Are you happy. . .?" ". . .every Friday." "These are my friends. . ." "Well, we'll see. . ." "Oh, wonderful. . ." And so it continued with my wondering why they didn't get together more often to catch up, more quietly. More privately.