Service

"I guess I don't understand why you're reacting like this," Erica said to her husband, giving him the look she gave when she felt he was being unreasonable.

"I just...it just seems like...like he's being selfish," Scott said.

"He's being selfish?" She put her hand on her hip. "I think you're the one being selfish. You're the one who suggested we read that book."

Scott looked down, wished not for the first time he could take that suggestion back. He meant that he and Erica read it, not that Michael, her lover read it, too. "Erica," he whispered.

"What are his love languages?" she asked.

"Erica..."

"Well?"

"P...physical touch and...and acts of service," Scott said.

"He certainly likes physical touch from me," she said, "it's not unreasonable that he expects and feels validated by acts of service from you. Especially as the man in our lives."

"E...Erica," Scott looked at his wife, then looked down. 

"It's not like he expects anything you don't already do here. You know he's fairly neat naturally, an every other Saturday cleaning won't take more than half a day."

"But I..."

"It's less about the activity than the significance, the act of service. It's a tangible showing you accept his role and yours, that you, I don't know, are willing to serve him. Let's be honest, for a man like him, having his girlfriend's husband come over and clean his house is as good a sign as any who's the man."

"I just..."

"Besides," Erica said, "I think sharing my maid with him is kind of hot."

"Maid!" Scott blurted out. "I...I can't wear a uniform."

"You most certainly can," she said. "I'm not sending you over there dressed like a boy."