Phoenix, Arizona - 1995

It was Thursday.

I never could get the hang of Thursdays.

That line of literature floated through Glen's mind as he heaved himself reluctantly from the car; he considered it's meaning as the door clunked closed behind him and his weary feet trudged along the slabbed pathway that separated the drive from the front door, bisecting a lawn that he would no doubt be nagged into mowing as soon as Sunday rolled around. The quote was an understatement, he decided: he did not merely struggle with Thursdays, he loathed and detested them. Thursday was when a tsunami of extra work arrived, last minute requests from those too disorganised to file them expediently, but too savvy to wait until Friday and risk him deferring the task until after the weekend. Their tactic was shrewd: safe from the accusation of leaving it to the last minute, his colleagues deftly absolved themselves of any blame or responsibility should their projects be delayed, and placed that burden squarely upon his shoulders.

His nose wrinkled as he peered up on the clouds; the rain that had been tumbling from the grey and overcast sky for the last fifteen minutes seemed about as enthusiastic about today as he was. Hollow encouragements and futile motivations suggested he should seize the day, and make it his own; but stealing Thursday from the deity to whom the Vikings had dedicated it seemed unwise.

In the distance, a rumble of thunder seemed to agree.

The key slid into the lock; a click, and the front door swung open. Past mistakes reminded Glen to remove his shoes before venturing further; coat abandoned on the hook beside the door, he trudged across the carpet in suit and socks like a man on the verge of collapse.

A single pace into the kitchen, a single glimpse of her, and that changed.

Renewed energy rolled through him. His strides as he crossed the room were not rushed, but there was an eagerness in the way his socks padded against the kitchen tiles. He didn't speak, not out of a desire for stealth but merely because the sight of her made him speechless, as it always did. His arms slid around her middle, drawing her away from the counter and into a gentle embrace. His lips sought out a sliver of exposed shoulder and settled a kiss upon it.

"I swear," he said, his voice escaping as a contented sigh as he rested his head against the side of hers, "You grow more beautiful every time I see you."