Yolanda Bardot hastily hung up the phone, "I can't talk to you much right now, someone will come soon. If you have new ideas, contact me again."
She placed the phone under the pillow, just as the door was pushed open.
Dilbert Walker brought a pack of fresh strawberries, already washed clean, each one glistening like a ruby on the fruit plate.
"Yolanda, the strawberries you wanted." Dilbert sat by her bedside and lifted a hand to feed her one.
Yolanda Bardot swallowed it in her mouth, intentionally chewing slowly, savoring the taste bit by bit, her smile animated, "So sweet, not sour at all."
"If you like them, I'll buy you more tomorrow." Dilbert continued to feed her several more.
Yolanda Bardot playfully said, "Dilbert, you're so good to me."
"Silly, you're my wife. If I'm not good to you, who am I good to?"
Dilbert truly treats her well; from buying them, washing them, to now, he still hasn't tasted one himself, leaving them all for his wife.
