Chapter 15: The Morning Routine

That lipstick had been bought by Dan Harper’s friend, Ginny, the cook at the construction site—eight bucks, a subtle shade, not too bold, but moist and bright, making Lila look full of life.

Lila had fussed over it for ages: “Why buy this? You could have bought a nice jacket instead—eight dollars would get a really good one.”

Dan Harper waited patiently as Lila solemnly took the lipstick, with its black case and wine-red core, applied it to her upper lip, then her lower, pressed her lips together, then pouted and asked, “Does it look good?”

“It looks great.” Before he could finish, Dan kissed her hard.

Lipstick really was something—no wonder city women wore it all the time. Kissing lips with lipstick was a whole new experience. Before, Lila’s lips had always been dry and chapped, sometimes peeling like a shriveled apple. But now, they were smooth and fragrant.

Dan Harper felt as if he were floating in the scent of lipstick.

He’d always thought the little things—the color of her lips, the warmth of her hands—were what made a home. That night, he wished he could freeze time, just for a moment.