Love

A few days ago, the husband and I were driving down the freeway, headed to Home Depot so I could purchase the appropriate lightbulbs for Pokie's cute little multi-colored floor lamp. I was in the passenger seat, fiddling with the IPOD so the husband wouldn't fiddle with it. (He often does while he drives, and it makes me angry because a) it isn't safe; b) he doesn't stop fiddling when I ask him to and seems to regard my concern as unworthy of action.)

I was flipping through the huband's absurdly lengthy "artists" lists, trying to decide between two albums by John Prine, when he leaned hard on the horn and I jerked my head up to look out the windsheild. We were going about 60.

"Jesus Christ!" An old Honda hatchback in the right lane was about to veer into us. We were in his blind spot. "Mother fucker!" The husband leaned on the horn again. I was holding the IPOD in my left hand and gripping my seat with my right, watching the Honda come within inches of us as we sped further onto the shoulder, toward a huge mass of white oleander that grows high on the freeway median.

Then the Honda responded and pulled back into the right lane. "God dammit!" the husband honked again, furious, and sped up.

"Just let him go," I said. "It's okay." I was still gripping the seat.

"What an asshole."

"Um..." I cleared my throat. "I think I'm going to start crying." I put my hand over my mouth and started to wail. Unborn babies die in car accidents all the time.

"Oh, honey." He reached over and touched my knee. "It's okay. Nothing happened."

"I know," I sobbed.

"Why are you crying?"

I shrugged. "I just need a minute," I said. "Just a minute."

The husband kept rubbing my leg, being soothing (except for, as we drove across the freeway bridge, "You know, you were fiddling with the IPOD, not me." Unfortunately, I was too upset to jerk my leg away and stop speaking to him until he apologized. His timing was impressive.)

By the time we pulled into the parking lot, I had stopped crying but was sniffling in steady spurts. He turned off the ignition and pulled me over to him for a hug. "You know," he said again, "I would never let anything happen to you and the Pokie."

"Oh for god's sake," I said into his shoulder. Macho bullshit. "If something had happened, it wouldn't have been your fault."

"I would never let anything happen to you and the Pokie."

"You can't control everything," I said.

We relaxed the hug and he looked at me, serious as hell. "I would never let anything happen to you and the Pokie."

"All right," I said.

"Nothing happened, did it?"

"No," I said. Sniffle. Tear wipe.

"Well then?"

"Okay, okay," I said. "I got it."

"I love you," he said, kissing my hand.

I sighed. "I love you, too."