“Thanks for putting the top down on the Jeep, WG!”

“It’s the perfect day for a ride with it off, isn’t it, EJ?”

“It sure is.  There’s only one problem, WG.”

“What’s that, EJ?”

“You just got passed by a minivan full of grey-haired folks and now you’re getting passed by a Prius.”

“Drat.  My Man Card is in my wallet.  You might as well just throw it out the window.”

“I will put you on probation, just this once, but if that gravel truck blows past us in the right lane, I am out of here.”

I have spent hours waiting in parking lots.  I have spent days of my life being a taxi driver, shuttling Flash here and there and back again.  Even on my own birthday, I was little more than a source of transportation to get him where he needed or wanted to be, and then, of course, home again when it was all over.

I have sat in the passenger seat teaching, suggesting, nudging, cringing as he learned and practiced the art of driving.  I have sacrificed my plans, my desire to just get there so that he might learn and gain more exoeience each time we went out.  I have spent countless hours coaching him in and out of parking spaces, backing into the garage and demonstrating safe techniques in all kinds of weather.

I was there, at the Secretary of State’s office, waiting with an anxious boy when he got his driving permit.  I was there, each and every day, waiting in the parking lot a good distance from home while he took the necessary classes.  I was there beside him as he hit the telephone pole, as he pulled out too quickly, as he cut someone off or as he took a turn too fast.

I was also there when he drove me without a word of correction. I was there when he started feeling comfortable enough to drive with one hand on the wheel.  I was there, playing with the radio, demonstrating distractions to a boy who was no longer flustered, no longer easily distracted.  I was there when he drove home from school at night, in the rain and the door handle went unclenched.  I was there when he drove on the highway, passing cars and trucks and my heart didn’t race.  I was there when he calmly practiced parking over and over until he felt successful.

And I was there, in the backseat as required, when he took his road test.  I was there, absolutley silent as he performed every maneuver asked of him.  I was there, biting my lip, holding my breath, feeling nervous for a biy who didn’t show it himself.  And I was there when the instructor handed him his certificate with compliments.

So forgive me, if today, I linger in bed with a book.  Forgive me if my to-do list sits untouched for a while longer.  Understand that for just today, the first day of my retirement from chauffeur services, if I don’t relax just a little, self-indulge just a bit, while he drives himself too and from band camp.  Oh sure, I still utter more advice upon his departure- about the fog, about his headlights, about his return-than he deems necessary, and I still wait with phone in hand for him to text to say he has arrived safely,but the rest of my day will be spent ignoring the clock.  No where to be, no reason to stop in the middle of anything to go pick him up or take him back.  My day is, for once, my own.

Bittersweet.  Bittersweet indeed.

WG and I were standing in the kitchen putting dinner together.  Sidling up to him, I leaned in for a kiss.  Not receiving much passion reciprocated, I pulled back.  Ever the romantic (cough cough), WG said almost the appropriate words, “…look so delicious, I just want to eat…” almost perfect.  if only he had been talking about me and not the biscuits fresh out of the oven.

My phone rang while I was eating lunch, checking my email on my iPad and firing up the laptop to get some schoolwork done. The caller said she was sitting alone, by a lake, watching the boats. She said everyone else was tubing the river and she stayed behind for some quiet time. It was when she said she had just finished reading an entire magazine cover to cover that I asked her to hold on for a second, and I looked again at my cell phone. The display clearly stated that my sister was on the line, but my sister never sits still, is never alone and never does one single thing uninterupted, like reading a magazine. She could give classes on how to multi-task your multi-tasking list.

I am not aure who should be more frightened about the switch in lifestyles but I am certain it was short-lived for both of us. I am sure she is already fixing snacks and laying out dry clothes for the tubers and I am plumping the couch cushions getting ready to nap during the baseball game (wait, that’s multi-tasking, right?)

I’ve got to say, though, I am proud of ya, Jules! Enjoy the quiet life!

He is by my side all day every day. If I go upstairs, he follows. If I go outside, he’s right there with me. If I sit on the couch, he sleeps under the coffee table. When I cook dinner, he lays by the back door. He is never far, not ever. Well, until now.

For the fifth weekend in a row, my neighbors set off fireworks tonight. For some of the previously noisy nights, I have had the a/c on, but it is a gorgeous night and the windows are wide open. And other than the time my sister accidentally shut him in the garage, this was the first time ever that I couldn’t find my dog. I called. I looked under my bed, his usual spot. I went downstairs and checked everywhere I could think of. I even opened the back door on the very off chance that I had left him outside. No dog. I finally found him, curled up in a ball in my bathroom back by the shower. Poor pup. He came out briefly then, but could not be convinced the scary noises were over, and he quickly retreated to his new safety spot.

Even as I write this, he is only slowly inching his way out of the bathroom, head down, timid walk, laying down again just outside the door, not daring to come any closer to the bed and the open window.

Is it completely unreasonable to call the police and tell them my neighbors are greatly disturbing my dog’s peace?

Poor Eli.

I had no idea the price of air was so expensive that we would need our credit cards! Conserve each breath people!

All week I had been asking friends about Fisher and some potential red flags. “He never asks me questions,” I said. “His sister and her family don’t just live in the basement, they share his kitchen and bathroom.”. While I enjoyed his company, there were little things nagging at me that kept me hesitant. Thursday evening he came over for dinner. We had a good time, but again, he talked and didn’t seem too interested in things about my life. By evening’s end, it was pretty clear that he had read my invitation to dinner at home as an invitation for far more than that. I knew I was far far FAR from ready for that and politely ended the night.

When my sister asked how it went the next day, I replied, “I think I just miss WG. Maybe I am not ready to do this yet.” I found myself thinking about WG a lot, wishing we had been able to find common ground and make each other happy.

Part way through my day on Friday, I received an email from WG, as though he was reading my mind. He said he left something at my door, and if I was willing, he would like to stop back by when I was home to talk. There were flowers at my door when I arrived home, and shortly after, WG sat on my deck sharing his apology with me.

We have been down this road several times. It’s like we know it SHOULD work, but we just can’t seem to make it work. We are quick to hold affection for fear of it not being returned. We are quick to take each other for granted and not show our appreciation. We are fearful people, trying to figure out how to successfully date in our 40’s, and I will freely admit, we seem to prefer to learn it the hard way.

We went for a drive and dinner at the lake yesterday. It was wonderful to be with someone familiar, someone I feel safe with, someone who knows it’s all about the crab cakes at Black River Tavern and having the top down on the backroad journey there. Someone who asked about school, about Flash and about my garden. Someone who held my hand as we walked the peer and kissed me sweetly goodnight at evening’s end.

Maybe it is just those simple comforts that attracts us both right now. Maybe it is the familiar, the safeness, the known that makes it work for the moment. I just hope, whatever it is, that we can figure out how to make that last. How to get past a week, a month or a year, and still be going strong.

Tonight, I am invited to dinner at WG’s, a treat I will not pass up. I will take it a day at a time, but I will keep an eye on the past, that I don’t repeat it, and take glances at the future to try to keep us on track to get there.