Drawn Hearts

She walked up behind him, put her arms around him and nestled her head on his shoulder. "Good morning, Frank," she whispered in his ear. He did not turn around, but patted her arm. And so they stood there quietly, two people almost melted into one, looking out their patio door at the flowers in their backyard. 

"Well, dear," she cooed, "what are your plans for today?"

"Hmm. It's so gorgeous that I think I'll just go for a long walk. You want to go with me?"

"I better not," she said, nibbling on his earlobe. "My ankle's still a bit sore from when I twisted it in the garden yesterday. I think I'll stay home with a good book." 

"Sounds like a plan. Well then, I better get going before the day slips away."

"All right, Frank," she murmured while giving him ticklish kisses down his neck, "but don't be gone too long."

He gently broke her grip and turned around. She giggled, threw her arms around him again and gave him a kiss. He smiled, caressed her cheek and then reached for his hat. She playfully looped a finger between some buttons on his shirt and said, "We're getting low on flour. Will you be going by Food-a-Rama on your walk?"

"No," he said, "I'll be going by 'Frank.'"

An hour later, when he returned home, he found she had changed all the locks.

A little addendum here, written in early 2021. I feel guilty for not revealing the following way back on August 1, 2018, when I posted this. You see, although the shaggy dog story is mine, I stole the punchline ("No," he said, "I'll be going by Frank.'") from my brother Jim. I just want to give credit where credit is due, or blame where blame is due, as the case may be.