Those thirty-seven minutes felt like thirty-seven hours to Cora, who impatiently sat with her back to the door tapping the toe of her right heel on the floor beneath her table. Not even two mimosas had calmed her down; the third on the table had thus far been untouched, and wasn't even a mimosa. The worst part of the wait was when a rugged man wearing tattered jeans and a flannel shirt approached, and asked if the seat across was empty. It obviously was, and the meek mannered woman was almost about to be too nice and let him sit. Then, she closed her eyes, and pictured what Alexis would say. Rather, she imagined the various curses and physical hand gestures that would be displayed. Instead of doing either of those, Cora did manage to find some semblance of self-control. "It won't be for long. I'm waiting for someone," she answered with a firmer tone than she would normally use. Surprised he was being dismissed, but still too stubborn to let it go completely, the bearded man shrugged while nodding his head to the bartender nearby. "Well, I'll buy you a drink anyway, and if he doesn't show - whatever kind of jerk that would be - I'll be right over there, okay sweet stuff?"

If not for the last two words, Cora might have given him a thankful smile but the beginning of her pleasant face was quickly changed to an annoyed scowl. She said nothing but did give a quick nod of recognition. Realizing he'd struck out (temporarily, in his mind) the male did walk away, then true to his word, bought Cora a bottle of foreign beer. Not local; he incorrectly guessed that because she was dressed so fancy that she would appreciate a more expensive lager. Cora actually enjoyed local brews, though she didn't drink beer often anyway. Beer was for men; wives held their cocktails and martinis with garnish on the rims quietly giggling about how long Miranda and Roger's lawn had gotten, how Stephanie definitely had gone away to recover from a face lift because no one had seen her in a week, and did anyone hear that Jim got a DUI oh goodness Holly must be devastated I mean we all know he drinks a little too much but ... well, I just knew it wouldn't be long did you see him at their Christmas party ... Speaking of, did you know I'm hosting a -

The door opened, and the spell broke. Cora knew Alex was there far before she even approached. Even with her eyes closed and mind half gone, Cora recognized the somehow pleasant odor of a farm nearing. They hadn't seen each other in a long time but that smell was just so different than the potpourri and flowery scents that lingered in every corner of every room Cora typically went to. Cora opened her eyes in time to see Alex take seat across from her. All it took was the two words of greeting, Alex's infectious grin, and that distinct aroma that let Cora knew she was safe, and she hadn't felt that way in a long time. In an instant, the barriers fell and Cora broke.

"What did I do wrong, Alex?" Cora shrieked suddenly, while placing her elbows on the edge of the table and her face in her hands. "I did everything right. I d-did everything Mother told me to do, what needed to be d-done. I d-did everything, for him!" Cora began to tremble, and despite attempting to hide her face the break in her voice signaled she was breaking one of those things she was told not to do: cry in public, make a scene, embarrass herself. "I played by all the rules! It's not fair!"

"And I know if I'll only be true..."

Cora's cell phone began to ring, her favorite song playing quietly from within her purse. The sudden sound made her jerk in place again, far worse than when Molly had called her name. Shaken once more, and forgetting she'd just broken a staple rule in her life, Cora let her hands fall revealing the beginning of tear stricken cheeks to dig for her phone. She dropped it on the table when she, through blurry eyes, saw her husband's name on the screen.

"...to this glorious quest..."

Unable to think properly, to even know what she was doing, Cora looked to her best friend for guidance. "What do I do now?"

"...that my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I'm laid to my rest..."*

*"The Impossible Dream" from Man of La Mancha by Richard Kiley