At The Lights, by Barbara Gliddon

Next to me, at the lights, an attractive woman waited to cross.
Another scurried towards us, small, neat alert.
“Wendy, hallo.”
“Andrea” a barely audible sigh. Of what? Forebearance? From the attractive woman, Wendy.
“You’re back?” enquired Andrea.
“A while ago, we were away for a year.”
“Don’s work?”
“Yes.”
A tiny pause as Andrea considered this.
“I believe your son got married…”
A small tight smile from Wendy.
“A couple of times...”
The green pedestrian green man flashed, Wendy moved. Resolute.
“Nice seeing you Andrea.”
“Bye.”
Another small tight smile. Andrea’s this time. She straightened, then we crossed together.