Sam tried not to trail snow, but the stuff was everywhere, and some inevitably tumbled in as the door opened. He flicked at it with the toe of his shoe before he closed up again, but he was too damned beat to give it much of an effort. The hallway flickered under dim candle-lanterns; the only other light shone through the open doorway of the bathroom, down the hall. "Therese?" he called while he hung his cap on the hook. "Hi, baby," she greeted him from within the bathroom. "Tough day, honey?" He sighed. "Three hours from LaGuardia. Can you believe it?" He turned to hang his overcoat. "Aw, poor baby, I know. Harold already called an hour ago. He says he'll understand if you can't make it till late tomorrow." Sam buzzed his lips in disgust. "Harold'll be lucky if he sees me at all this week." "Is it still coming down?" "Oh yeah." He stomped again for emphasis, then bent over to remove a shoe. "So, I'm going to have you around a while to do some housework?" "Yeah." He stooped for the other one. "Looks like." "Don't worry, I'll keep you busy." As he removed it, her bare foot stepped onto a piece of slush on the floor before him. Her red- painted toes flared as she smashed it. Lips touched his bald spot. "You've been neglecting your houseduties, you know." His gaze travelled up naked legs. Therese stood before him in a piece of lingerie he had never seen, a scanty merrywidow, the same bright shade as her toenails and lips. She was beautiful, the way her long black hair curled over her tiny shoulders and the red straps. Her eyes and lips smiled slyly. "Hope nothing's wrong," she chuckled. Ambushed, he only shook his head with a stupid grin, and stared down into her deep, brown eyes. His thumbs circled her erect nipples through the lace. "Good," she snickered again. "The furnace is working." She pulled his zipper down. "The fridge is stocked." She slid her hand in. "We don't have to leave the house for a few days." Therese leaned forward and kissed him, pulled out his erection. "Let's go make babies, shall we, Mr. Biancalana?" She turned and led him by his cock, eying him over her shoulder. "Yes, Mrs. Biancalana," he replied, and followed her upstairs.