My husband and I decided to drive to California for my best friend’s wedding. We hadn’t taken a road trip in a while. We live in Salt Lake City, Utah—about 12 or 13 hours away. Five hours into our trip, we came to a fork in the highway, separating two highways. I asked Stephen, “Do you have the MapQuest directions?”
“What MapQuest directions?”
“Hun, are you telling me that you forgot the directions?”
“I didn’t need them.”
Agitated, I inquired, “What do you mean you didn’t need them?”
“I read them and it looked like a straight shot. I figured that you could call Kate when we got there to get directions from the highway.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, why do you ask that?”
“Have you ever driven to California?”
He glanced at me. “No—but I HAVE taken a lot of road trips and once you’ve seen one highway, you’ve seen them all.”
“Well—“ I hesitated. “Alright then.” (I removed three sentences because they were told in the dialogue.) I’m sure he wouldn’t travel this far without knowing where we’re going.
He chose to curve left at the fork in the road. I closed my eyes. I awake to hear I listened to Aerosmith’s song, Cryin, for the third time. No telling how many times it played while I slept. I asked Stephen, “Hun, where are we?”
“We should be about two hours away.”
“Well, have you seen any signs for California?”
“Not yet. But I think we are still too far to see signs yet.”
“You sure about that?”
“I know where I’m going. Just trust me!”
“I’m just trying to help.”
I could sense the frustration in his voice. “I don’t need any help. I just said I know where I’m going.”
“Well, alright then.” I didn’t want to argue. A wedding is not the place to have tension with your spouse. Weddings wreak romanticism—something now limited in Stephen and I’s marriage. Somehow, the romance rubs off on the guests. I couldn’t chance that not happening.
Thirty more minutes had past and we were coming up on a giant green sign. I studied it to learn that it didn’t mention California at all. “Hun, that sign doesn’t say California anywhere. You sure you know where you’re going?”
“I know where I’m going!”
“Maybe we should stop and get directions.”
“I don’t need directions.”
“But we should see something by now. Don’t you think?”
“Can you let me drive please?”
“I just thought that maybe we’d see a sign by now.”
“Let’s just wait to see what the next sign says. Okay?”
“Well okay then.”
Thirty more minutes had past. I curved my body into the back seat, reaching for the blanket. Stephen never turned the air conditioner off. As I turned around, I caught a glimpse of the next sign as we jetted by. “Stephen!”
“What!”
“Did you see that sign?”
“What sign?”
“It said Texas!”
“Texas!”
“Stephen, we’re going the wrong way! Pull over! We’re going the wrong way!”
“Shit—I’ll get off at the next exit and ask for directions!”
No comments:
Post a Comment