“You’re talking about me like I’m a house pet.”

“I don’t make love to a house pet,” she huffed. “By the way, thanks for the flowers-again-but no more. The house is looking like a funeral home.”

“It isn’t?” Decker’s attempted joke was met with silence. “Pass the brisket.” After Rina handed him a sandwich, he said, “This is much too good to eat when you’re not getting along. What do you want from me?”

“For you to promise that you’ll never do something that blatantly stupid again.”

“Done.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s probably wise.”

Rina hit him. “So you don’t care about making me a widow twice?”

“I’d only be making you a widow once. As pissed as you are, you can’t blame the first time on me.”

“You’re not funny.”

Decker put down the sandwich. “The situation probably won’t come up again, so the promise I made you will probably remain valid throughout my lifetime. I know it was stupid; people make mistakes. I love you. Can we move on, please?”

Rina was silent. She took out a chicken sandwich, said grace over her food, and bit into it. They ate in silence: a half hour of chewing and swallowing and an occasional grunt in between. When Decker offered to open the champagne, Rina nodded.

They toasted to health.

Then more silence.

Decker finally said, “In a very weak and not so subtle attempt to get on your good side, I’ve upgraded our accommodations for the cruise. I’ve booked us a room with an outside deck and an adjoining room for Hannah.”

“This is what it takes for you to get a deck-almost getting yourself killed?”

“A simple ‘that’s great, dear’ would suffice.”

“That’s great, dear.” Rina was silent. But then she smiled. “I’m excited…about the cruise.”

Decker smiled back. “So am I.”

“Eight days without any responsibility in pristine surroundings.”

“It doesn’t get any better than that.”

“And you’re sure you can get the time off.”

Decker laughed. “After what I went through, that’s not a problem.”

“We’ll go whale watching?”

“Sounds great.”

“And canoeing and kayaking.”

“I’ll row, you take the pictures.”

“Will you serve me breakfast in bed?”

“I will.”

“Will you wear a black uniform and call me madam?”

“Pass the strawberries.”

“I think you’d look cute in a butler’s uniform.”

“I’ll be the butler if you’ll be the maid.”

“I already am the maid.”

“Yeah, but I’m talking about the kind of maid that wears a black little thing with a white apron and a feather duster.”

Rina hit him again.

“What? A guy can’t dream?”

“Not if he already has a dream girl.”

“No argument there.” Decker leaned back. “This was a very good idea. Much better than a stuffy old restaurant. As usual, you were right.” He leaned over and kissed his wife. “I love you. Thanks for being the wonderful woman that you are.”

“I love you, too.” Rina’s eyes moistened. “Thanks for being a terrific husband…and thanks for just being alive.”

FAYE KELLERMAN introduced L.A. cop Peter Decker and his wife, Rina Lazarus, to the mystery world eleven years ago. Since that time she has written nine Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus novels as well as a historical novel, The Quality of Mercy. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, author Jonathan Kellerman. There are close to three million copies of her books in print.