Beyond the blue horizon…waits a beautiful day.

The lively seventies rendition of the thirties song rang out as Allie danced around the kitchen while she mopped the floor. Her hips, which she hated, swayed rhythmically to the snappy tune. Allie sang out for all she was worth believing it could be true.

With that, the music stopped abruptly.

"For crying out loud, Allie," her husband called from the doorway as he flipped off the CD player. "Why don’t you use your iPod with the headphones? I can’t hear myself think."

Allie whirled around in surprise, then grinned, not wanting to break her good mood. "C’mon, Paul, dance with me."

She flipped the player on once again and held out her arms. Paul groaned as he held her, and after a few steps around the kitchen, he gently released her. For a moment, they looked into each other’s eyes.

"Well," Allie said with a sigh, "that was painful."

Paul grimaced as Allie turned off the music. "Okay, Allie, I have work, you know that. You wanted me to stay home on a Saturday. So here I am. I’m sorry if I have work. Now, please, honey, just keep it down."

Allie narrowed her eyes at Paul’s retreating figure and followed him into the den of their Oak Park home. "I just thought it would be nice to do something on a summer afternoon like a normal married couple. If we were ever that," she added sadly.

Paul groaned loudly as he sat behind his desk. "Allie," he started and took a deep breath. "I’m trying to make sure we’re solvent in our old age."

"Good God, Paul. We’re fine. Didn’t we put two kids through college? Well, almost, Jocelyn will be done next spring."

"We?" He smirked. By the sick look on his face, Allie knew he realized his mistake.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she bore a hole into him. "Do not go there with me, Paul Sanders. Who worked her ass off for five years while a certain college grad looked for the ‘perfect’ job?" she asked slowly. "And who did this while she was pregnant?"

"Now in all honesty, Al, you weren’t pregnant for five years." His grin faded while Allie continued to seethe. "I know you did. I’m sorry if that sounded harsh. I know you were a big help back then. I wouldn’t have this job if it weren’t for you." Paul tossed down his pen and looked up. Allie searched his face, saw the beginning of gray at his temples, and wondered when that started. She also noticed a trace of sadness in his eyes. "Were we ever that? Ya know—a normal married couple."

Allie sat on the edge of his desk and thought about it. She picked up his pen, toying with it before she said softly, "I think we were."

"Can we be again?" he asked, but before she could answer, he took the pen out of her hand and smiled slightly. "You’re sitting on my paperwork."

Allie chuckled and scooted off the desk. She knew Paul really didn’t want an answer, or perhaps he already knew what it would be. "Now why don’t you go finish your dancing kitchen routine while I finish?" He concentrated on the papers in front of him.

"You’re going to miss the beautiful day." She kissed the top of his head and walked out of the office.

"Hey, are you losing weight?" he asked.

Allie smiled and turned back. Maybe all that walking is doing the trick, she thought.

"Your hips don’t look so big," he added and went on quickly when Allie glared. "I-I mean you’re always complaining about your hips and…"

Allie held up her hand. "Don’t overdo it, honey. Thanks."

She walked back into the kitchen and turned on the music once again. Though now, it just didn’t sound the same. She thought about how Paul was indeed missing the beautiful days and in the back of her mind considered her culpability. They were missing too many beautiful days, and she had no idea what to do about it.

With the house cleaned, Allie pondered what to do with the rest of her day; it was only noon. The sun was out and it was a gloriously hot August day. Paul still concentrated on his paperwork in the office, the door now closed. Allie flopped down on the couch and put her head back. The warm summer breeze blew through the curtains, and her mind wandered back to another warm August day when the children were so young.

Allie laughed as Jocelyn opened her mouth like a little bird. "Goodness, you’re hungry this morning, sweetie," she said and offered another spoonful.

The toddler banged her spoon on the table with glee. "Okay, here it comes!" Allie announced.

Just then, another country spoke up. "Mama, me too," Nick called out as he watched. Allie noticed the frown and gave her five-year-old gentleman an indulgent grin.

"You want me to feed you, too?" Allie asked in amazement. Nick nodded quickly. "I just thought you were a big boy and didn’t need to be fed like a baby, but okay…"

With that, Nick frowned deeper and picked up his spoon. "I’m not a baby, Mama," he said and dug into his Cheerios.

"I’m sorry, sweetie. You’re such a big boy," Allie apologized as she wiped off Jocelyn’s chin.

Nick nodded. "Joflyn is a baby."

"Yes, she is. That’s why she’s lucky to have such a good big brother."

That did it. Nick jumped off his chair and stood next to his sister. He took the paper napkin. "I do it."

Allie sat back and smiled as her young man wiped his sister’s chin, nearly taking a layer of skin with it. "There, Joflyn, you messy."

Jocelyn scrunched her nose and giggled while Nick patted her head too hard. Allie winced and chuckled. "Thank you, Nick. You’re a big help."

"Welcome, Mama. Can I go outside now?" He wiped off his chin.

"Sure, sweetie. Stay in the backyard. We’ll be out in a bit." Allie kissed his cheek.

Nick pulled away. "Mama!" he argued and ran down the hall.

Jocelyn watched with interest as Nick disappeared. She looked back at Allie and struggled to get out of the highchair.

"Okay, little miss, hold on," Allie cooed and helped her down. She laughed as she watched her waddle after her brother.

Nick came running out wearing his Cubs hat and carrying the plastic bat. He nearly ran over Jocelyn, who teetered and promptly fell on her backside and let out a shrill cry.

"Nick," Allie scolded, and Nick stopped dead in his tracks.

"Mama, Joflyn always gets in the way," he told her, his baseball cap slightly askew.

"Nick Sanders," Allie said with her hands on her hips.

The little shoulders slumped, and he turned to Jocelyn. "C’mon, Joflyn, stop cryin’."

Jocelyn put her hands up and Nick dropped his bat and tried to lift her. Allie hid her grin as Nick groaned as he tried to lift Jocelyn. "Mama! Help!"

Allie ran over before Nick dropped poor Jocelyn on her head. She picked her up and handed the bat back to Nick.

"She’s heavy, Mama." Nick dashed out the back door.

Allie shifted Jocelyn onto her hip and looked at her. "He’s right. You are heavy." She then kissed her cheek. "But you have the sweetest cheeks."

As Allie walked outside, there stood Nick waiting with his bat on his shoulder. Allie placed Jocelyn in the sandbox and stood up with a groan.

"C’mon, Mama!" Nick called out.

"Okay, okay, hold your water." Allie mumbled as she picked up the plastic ball.

"Throw it," Nick said.

Allie waited and looked at Nick, who grinned. "Please…"

"Okay." Allie tossed the ball, and Nick swung and missed. "Almost, sweetie. Try again."

"That’s okay, Mama. Papa said it’s ’cause you’re a girl." Nick handed her the ball, then dashed back to his spot.

Allie narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that what Papa said?"

Nick nodded quickly. "Girls aren’t as good as boys."

"I’ll have to have a talk with Papa," she mumbled and tossed the ball again.

Later that day, Allie had that conversation with Paul when he got home from work.

"He said that?" Paul laughed openly.

"I know it’s not a big deal, but I don’t want Nick thinking like that."

"Allie," he started. "It’s sports. Men are better equipped for sports than women."

"Where do you get these things?"Allie raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. "And this comes from the voice of experience, oh, great athlete?" she asked, and he glared at her. "Or am I mistaken that your cousin Debbie has kicked your ass whenever you challenge her to a game of golf or tennis or one-on-one basketball or…"

"She’s a freak of nature that woman." He turned on the television.

"And women should know their place, right?" Allie asked in a sad voice.

Paul sighed deeply as he flipped the channels. "I didn’t say that, but—"

Allie held up her hand to silence him. "Our son will respect women, Paul Sanders."

"Wait a minute, Allie. I want Nick to respect women, too."

"Then don’t make girls out to be weaker than boys. There’s more to it than brute strength."

Paul hid his grin. "You sound like a lesbian feminist."

For some reason, Allie blushed. She saw Paul’s lips twitch and shook her head. "Shut up. You know what I’m saying."

"I do. Really. I’ll talk to Nick. Now where’s my dinner?"

Allie glared at him. "We’ve already eaten. If you would get home at a decent hour, you’d eat, too. I of the weaker sex have laundry to do. It’s fend-for-yourself night, Mr. Sanders."

The phone ringing shook Allie from her reverie. She let out a groan as she picked it up.

"Allie? Vicky. What are you doing? Rita and I are going to Market Days in Chicago, ya know, on Halsted Street. So come with us."

"I know where Halsted is. Market Days, what’s that?" Allie asked.

"It’s a street fair on the North Side, the gay district."

Allie raised an eyebrow. "Wow. You’re very progressive there, Mrs. Belden." Allie chuckled. "Why Market Days?"

"Because they have all the shops set up on the street, and there are a ton of vendors. It’s a beautiful day. Rita’s meeting a few friends there, and it’s something different on a Saturday. Mike is at the Cubs game with the kids."

Allie thought about it, looking at the closed door to Paul’s office. "Okay. Come get me."

They strolled through the street shops and vendors. Allie ate a bratwurst while Vicky and Rita looked at jewelry.

"Allie, look at this!"

Allie strolled over and nodded. "It’s beautiful." She looked around the busy Chicago street, now filled with vendors, and stopped when she caught the eye of a woman standing across the street, looking at her. The woman was tall with dark shoulder-length curly hair and smiling. Allie smiled, as well, and when the woman nodded, Allie did, too.

"Allie. What do you think?" Vicky was asking as she put the earrings up to her ears.

Allie turned her attention back to her friends. "What? Oh, great. Buy ’em," she said decisively.

With that, someone roughly bumped into all three of them. Allie felt her arm roughly pulled, and suddenly, she was on the ground and her purse gone. "Hey!" she screamed from her sitting position, "he stole my purse."

Vicky and Rita were at her side, and in a blur, someone leapt over Allie. Her friends let out a screech as they watched. Just as quickly, a patrolman helped her to her feet. "He stole my purse," Allie said quickly and pointed in the direction.

"Stay put, ma’am," he ordered and took off.

"Geezus, Allie, are you all right?" Vicky asked, her brown eyes filled with concern and fear. "Shit. You scared the hell out of me."

Rita checked her for injuries. "Stupid fucker," Allie mumbled, and both women laughed nervously.

People had been milling around and offering assistance. Allie thanked them and took the offered bottle of water. Her hands were shaking horribly as she unscrewed the top, taking a long drink. What seemed like hours later, Allie spotted the patrolman and a woman walking toward them. It was the woman from across the street; she was a sweaty mess.

"Geezus!" Rita hung on to Allie and Vicky.

"Is this your purse, ma’am?" the patrolman asked and showed her the offering. Allie nodded mutely. "This woman helped. She tackled the poor guy." He motioned to the woman. "You’ll have to come down to the station and fill out a report. Please check it and see if there’s anything missing."

Allie, standing very close to her friends, opened the purse with shaky hands. After examining the contents, she nodded. "All here. Thank you." She looked at the woman, who nodded.

She was about five-ten. Her black hair was damp now, accentuating the waves and curls. She absently brushed said curls off her brow. As Allie watched the woman run her fingers through her hair, she noticed the streaks of gray throughout. What Allie really noticed were her eyes; they were slate gray.

"You’re welcome," the woman said, smiling.

Behind her, Allie heard Vicky sigh, which she ignored.

"Well, Miss..." the woman started.

"Mrs. Allie Sanders," Allie said quickly. She glanced at Vicky and Rita, who were gawking at the poor woman.

"Mrs. Sanders, you’ll have to come to fill out a report," the policeman repeated. Allie turned her attention to the policeman as he spoke. "You can do it in the morning. There’s no rush."

"Thank you, officer." When she looked back, the woman had disappeared. "I-I didn’t even get her name." Allie frantically looked through the crowd.

The patrolman shrugged and offered his hand and apology on behalf of the city of Chicago. Allie waved him off with a grateful smile.

"We need a drink," Vicky announced and dragged Allie by the arm.

They sat at the beer garden clutching their respective purses as they huddled together drinking beer.

Allie looked at Rita and Vicky and laughed. "My God, are we pathetic. We’re grown women, and we’re sitting here like scared rabbits."

Suddenly, they all burst into laughter. After a moment of hysteria, Vicky dried her eyes. "Well, your hero took off in a hurry. How about those eyes?" She fanned herself.

Rita agreed. "And that body. Holy shit, she must work out every day. Did you see those muscles?"

Allie nodded. "She’s probably a trainer of some sort. No one has a body that trim by accident." She took a healthy drink from the plastic cup.

"She was one hot-looking woman." Vicky looked at both friends. "What? She was hot. Didn’t you ever…"

Allie knew she was blushing and looked down at her cup of beer. "Ever what?"

Vicky rolled her eyes, and Rita gathered the empty cups and walked away. "Ever think about being with another woman?"

Allie did not answer. Instead, she leaned into Vicky. "Have you?"

Vicky blushed horribly and nodded but eagerly continued. "At the gym, there’s this blonde. I know she’s a lesbian. She’s very ‘out.’ I’ve had fantasies about her and…"

Allie laughed with delight. "You’re kidding! Does Mike know?"

Vicky winced and nodded. Allie was now astonished. If she ever had told Paul anything like that… She thought for a moment and wondered what exactly Paul would say. "What did he say?"

"What did who say?" Rita asked in full pout as she juggled three beers. "You talked without me."

Allie and Vicky laughed as Rita sat next to them. "What were you talking about?"

"I was telling Allie about my fantasy," Vicky said with a shrug.

Rita looked relieved. "Is that all? I thought it was something juicy," she grumbled and drank her beer.

Allie stared at both of them. "You too?"

"Oh, no, I don’t, but I think it’s cool that Vicky does. I hear Mike likes it," Rita said with a wink.

Vicky blushed and hid her face in her beer.

"What? What?" Allie begged like a kid in a candy store. "I definitely need to go out more."

"I told Mike about it and he got so turned on, we had to call my mother to come get the kids. He made some lame excuse, and God love her, she took them for the whole weekend," Vicky said and drank her beer.

"And?" Allie asked quickly.

Vicky looked up over her beer mug. "I was sore for days," she said happily.

Allie and Rita laughed as they drank. "I wonder what in the world Paul would do if I came home with a story like that," Allie said absently. She immediately wished she hadn’t said that out loud.

Both women watched for a moment as Allie contemplated the idea.

"Paul would freak," Vicky said flatly. Allie nodded sadly.

Rita, however, was more optimistic. "I bet he’d be jealous and take you right there on the doorstep. Rip off your clothes and have his way with you."

Allie smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Rita, but it ain’t gonna happen." She sipped her beer.

There was a time when Paul thought of her as a sexual being, but that was long ago and far away. Money was his sexual object now. He spent all his time at work making money. "When did he stop looking at me as a woman?" she thought. She was stunned to realize that unfortunately, she said that aloud. "I-I’m sorry, girls. I should never have said any of that. Paul is a good husband and father," she said honestly.

"I know. I like Paul. He’s—" Vicky stopped and took a drink. Rita didn’t say a thing. "Well, I think I’d better head home," Vicky said. "Enough excitement for one day, eh, ladies?"

Vicky pulled up to the brick bungalow. Allie glanced at her two younger friends.

"This was certainly an interesting afternoon," Allie said with a laugh, lightening the mood once again. "What’ll we do next Saturday to top this?"

She left both women laughing as they pulled away.

Paul was watching the Cubs game when Allie walked in. "Hi, honey." She sat on the edge of his chair.

"Hi. How was the market? Get your hands on some good fruit?"

Allie laughed so hard she almost fell off the arm of the chair.

"What’s so funny?" he asked seriously.

Allie dried her eyes, shaking her head. "Nothing. What’s the score?" she asked, watching the game.

"It’s the bottom of the eighth, and the stinking Cubs just might win a game. C’mon." He reached for the remote Allie had taken. "You love them as much as I do."

"Would you like a beer?" She headed for the kitchen.

As she grabbed two bottles from the refrigerator, she thought of what had happened that afternoon. Between having her purse snatched and Vicky’s discussion of lesbians, her mind reeled with visions from long ago, visions Allie had tucked away since college. But now, she smiled slightly when she remembered the woman helping the policeman. Vicky was right—she was gorgeous.

As they watched the Cubs lose, Allie told Paul about the purse snatching. Paul nearly dropped his bottle of beer and looked up with concerned eyes.

"Did you get your purse back?" he asked in a worried tone.

Allie had the bottle to her mouth; she stopped and glared. "Yes, and I wasn’t hurt at all. In case you were wondering."

Paul reddened and took a drink of his beer. "I-I figured you weren’t. You’d have told me when you first got home. How did you get it back, honey?"

"A nice lesbian ran the thief down and tackled him. A perfect stranger risked her life. I wonder why."

"A lesbian?" Paul asked. "Just where were you today?"

"At Market Days on Halsted," Allie said, drinking her beer.

"That’s the gay district."

There was a mixture of curiosity and hesitation in his voice that Allie ignored. "I didn’t know that. It was Vicky’s idea. If you can imagine that." She laughed as she remembered their conversation.

"Well, I’m glad you got your purse back and you weren’t hurt. And I’m glad the lesbian caught the bad guy."

Allie watched Paul as he quickly finished his beer. "What’s for dinner?"

That night, Allie lay in bed staring at the ceiling while Paul snored quietly next to her. She thought of the woman that afternoon. It was a brave thing for her to do. She looked over at Paul, then rolled on her side and watched him as he slept. He had certainly changed over the years, or maybe she had changed. She reached over and lightly touched his hair, and with a snort, he brushed her hand away in his sleep and rolled over.

Allie smiled sadly and patted his back, then rolled away and stared out the window at the dark quiet night. What was happening to them? When and how had they grown so much apart? She wanted to blame Paul and his obsession with his job and buying into the company. In the past ten years, he’d spent more time at the office downtown than at home. She’d like to think he neglected Nick and Jocelyn. If he were a bad father, it would be easy to lay this feeling of disconnect at his doorstep. But Paul was a good father.

She rolled onto her back and pulled the blanket up around her neck, knowing it wasn’t all Paul’s doing. Allie had changed, as well, and as the kids grew up, she and Paul grew apart.

"And here we are," she whispered into the darkness. Her gaze darted back and forth. "And just exactly where is that?" She had no answer, at least no answer she wanted to think about.