Trixie entered the coffee shop in a whirl of activity. Her laptop computer was tucked under one arm and a tote bag, overflowing with books and papers, dangled from the other arm. She scanned the shop in search of an empty table. After locating one, Trixie dumped her stuff on it and then went and ordered a chai tea. Trixie returned to her table, opened her computer and began to type furiously in an attempt to finish her school assignment.

“Why did I ever think that taking additional online courses would be a snap,” she muttered as she typed away on a paper regarding the narcissism of criminals. She stopped typing when she became aware of an odd, rhythmic noise. Looking around, she noticed a woman sitting nearby, knitting. Trixie shrugged and went back to typing but soon found that she was typing in rhythm to the clacking of the needles. Sighing, Trixie closed her computer and went in search of another table. She found a booth in the corner and re-settled herself. She took the lid off her chai tea and took a big gulp. "Gleeps!" That’s not tea, that’s coffee. How can anybody drink something that tastes like cough syrup?” she mused.

Trixie shoved the cup aside and again tried to work on her school paper. She was so intent on her writing that she didn’t hear people slide into the booth behind her. Trixie paused in an attempt to clarify her thoughts when she heard the quiet voices of the occupants of that booth.

“I don’t know what to do,” said a familiar voice. “I just don’t think I am making him happy. Maybe we got married too young.”

“Shhh,” said the other familiar voice. “I bet you are getting all worked up over nothing. I think he is very happy with you.”

“I don’t know,” said the first voice doubtfully.

.

Trixie stopped her typing and climbed up the back of the booth, looking over the top at the two women seated behind her. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise and concern as she gazed down at her two sisters-in-law.

Honey looked up and gasped as she saw Trixie watching her and Diana. “Uh, hi Trixie,” stammered Honey. “We didn’t know you were here.”

“Obviously. And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to hear this conversation,” answered Trixie, who worked hard to limit her involvement with the intimacies of her siblings marriages.

Trixie contemplated her two friends for a minute, then slid back down in her booth. Closing her computer and gathering her supplies, she could be heard muttering, “Next time I have work to do, I’m going to get on a boat and go to some deserted island where I won’t have any distractions.” Trixie missed the guilty looks on her friends’ faces as she swept by them, humming the theme to Gilligan's Island.