“I think we both forgot,” Brigitte admitted sheepishly about Valentine’s Day. “Ted’s working on a paper, and I’ve been buried in applications. We only have six weeks left to process them. And I have two papers due for my class. Besides, it’s snowing, and a crappy night to go out.”

“So stay home and celebrate it in bed. Maybe he’ll propose to you tonight,” Amy said hopefully, and Brigitte laughed out loud.

“Yeah, right, with a paper due on Friday. He’ll probably call me later and we’ll figure out something. Chinese takeout or sushi. It’s not a big deal.”

“It should be,” Amy scolded her. “I don’t want you to be an old maid like me.”

“I’m not, and neither are you. We’re unmarried women. That’s a highly respected category these days. It’s considered a choice, not an affliction, and people who are older than we are still get married and have kids.”

“Yeah, Sarah in the Bible maybe. How old was she? Ninety-seven, I think, when she had a kid. Generally, these days, that’s considered a little beyond the usual statistics. I think it was then too. And she was married.” Amy looked meaningfully at her friend, and Brigitte laughed.

“You’re obsessed, for me anyway. You’re not running around crazily trying to get married. Why should I? Besides, Ted and I are perfectly happy the way we are. No one rushes to get married anymore. Why is it such a big deal?” Brigitte looked unconcerned.

“After six years, it would hardly be considered rushing. It would be more like normal. And in about ten minutes you’ll be forty-five or fifty, and it’ll be all over for you. Your eggs will be prehistoric, and he can write an archaeology paper about them.” She was being funny, but she meant it. “Maybe you should propose to him.”

“Don’t be silly. We have lots of time to think about all that. Besides, I want to finish my book first, and my Ph.D. I want to be a doctor when I get married.”