Retribution Red

“Well, I’m ready to start the living room this week,” Tessa announced. Her husband, William, murmured something from behind his New York Times.

Tessa quietly continued, “I’d like your input on the color. I have some samples.”

“Tessa, Tesssss. . . a, how many times do I have to tell you, I really don’t care what color you paint the living room. I can’t understand why you haven’t employed an interior decorator to deal with all this—or, at the very least, hired a professional painter.”

“Oh, but I do love to paint, and I do a good job if I say so myself. Here, here are some color samples.”

William threw each sample on the floor as he read its label, his voice full of ridicule, “Sky Blue, Sea Foam, Buttercup, Nearly Beige, Touch of Taupe, Soft White, Tawny Tan, Daylight Blush, Gentle White, Winter’s Day, Subtle Sage, Sublime Sunrise . . . . Good grief, Tessa, just paint the blasted room.”

“It would mean a lot to me if you took some interest in these projects, Dear.”

“Enough!” William bellowed.

“Please William, could we just sit down together for a few minutes and . . . .”

William got up from his recliner and stormed out of the room.

Two days later, Tessa smiled mischievously as she popped off the lid of the fresh can of paint, stirred it briskly, and dipped her brush in the quart of Pulsing Red.