Spaghetti Western

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Marta let her eyes dart over for a second to catch his in the mirror. Judgement. She dabbed the point of her eyeliner to a bare spot on the black wing she’d just drawn. 

“An outfit.”

“We’re going out.”

“I know.”

She riffled through her makeup bag in search of mascara. Peripheral vision alerted her to the pose Tim had struck for the last fifteen seconds: knees slightly bent, chest forward, hands up as though they were expecting to receive something at any moment, eyes confused that they still hadn’t, head cocked. She counted two strokes of the wand for each eye, and ran an index finger lightly back and forth over the lashes to separate them.

“I’d really like it if you changed into something else.”

Placing the mascara back into the bag and zipping it slowly, Marta finally turned to face him. She shrugged.

“I don’t want to.”

“I’m taking you out to dinner. I want this to be nice.”

“I look nice.”

“You know what I mean.”

She looked at him, blinking every couple of seconds, but saying nothing.

“It’s a really good restaurant. Really. You know: classy.”

“And what’s not classy about this? I’m wearing a blazer.”

“Marta! For real? Your stomach.”

Marta looked down.

“What about it? I think it actually looks pretty good.”

“Be serious.”

“I am. I’ve been working out a lot.”

“You’re wearing goddamn sandals, too.”

“They’re leather.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Metallic leather.”

“Marta! I am not kidding, we have to leave in, like, ten minutes! We have a reservation.”

“Do you actually think I can pick out an entirely new outfit in ten minutes?”

“YES I DO.”

Marta returned to blinking, letting her breathing get longer as Tim’s got shorter. At the end of a few minutes she let the right side of her lip curl up into a sneer.

“And what are you going to do if I don’t change?”

“It’s. A. Nice. Place. It’s expensive.”

“I’ll pay for myself then.”

Tim stood there for a moment, looking at her unamused. Sighing, he threw a “Whatever” hand up as he walked into the bedroom to get his jacket.

Marta dropped her makeup bag into her purse, putting her own jacket on as she reached for her vibrating phone: “Tim, Uber’s here,” and she opened the door.

H&M blazer and belt; Zara crop top and sandals; Uniqlo pants; Forever 21 earrings.