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"Lydia, you have to get better shoes."
"The inserts are the problem," Lydia replies defensively, dipping her spoon into the pint of cappuccino frozen yogurt resting in her lap. "They were supposed to be good for six months."
"Well, that was a lie," Allison replies, sinking her thumb into the ball of Lydia's foot. Lydia groans and tips her head back, spoon still in her mouth.
"Right there," she mumbles. Allison works at the same spot until Lydia asks her to move closer to her heel.
"We could go get some more tomorrow," Allison suggests, pausing the massage so she can pour some lavender scented lotion into her palms. "We need to get groceries anyway."
"I was actually planning on getting your anniversary present tomorrow," Lydia says, sliding down the arm of the couch so that her feet are closer to Allison's lap.
"Am I allowed to guess what it is?"
"You can guess as many times as you want. I'm not going to tell you if you're right," Lydia replies with a grin.
"Fine." Allison shrugs nonchalantly as she smooths the lotion along Lydia's sore feet. "Your present is going to be a twelve-pack of gel inserts. And some better shoes."
Before Allison can finish talking, Lydia lobs a throw pillow at her head. Allison easily ducks it.
"Don't make me tickle you," she warns, tapping the bottom of Lydia's foot.
"You wouldn't dare," Lydia replies smugly, popping another spoonful of yogurt into her mouth.
Per usual, she's right.