I’d like to think that Rick could trust me to act appropriately in a crisis, or to an unexpected surprise. I’d like to think that he could know that if shocked by the unexpected I would have presence of mind to show a subdued amount of shock, combined with a demur and doe-eyed grace and he could say proudly, “Wow! My wife is a rock!”
Last night’s events, however prove otherwise. And lucky for me there were only 3 human witnesses and 2 canine witnesses, so I could try to get away with altering the story for my own benefit and reputation. The dogs would never tell. But since one of the witnesses is my son, I fear I must come clean.
Last night Abby Schrag, Josh’s fiance’ was coming to dinner. This is not strange. She has come to dinner once by herself, and come for a glass of wine once. And I’ve had tea at her house recently. So, when she was persistent about wanting to have dinner last night, I wasn’t alarmed, suspicious, or anything otherwise. In fact, I sort of wanted to postpone. I was tired and talked out at work, and wanted to go home and watch Parenthood and go to bed early. I did neither of those things.
When she arrived the dogs alerted me that someone was here. I opened the door and just as she stepped over the threshold, a bearded man charged the porch and startled me, nay, terrified me to the point I let out a scream, the likes of which you would hear in a very cheesy horror movie. I sounded like THIS I know you think this is an exaggeration, but I assure you it is not.
And once my brain tried to register that I knew this man, and that this man was none-other than my son Josh, home 2 weeks earlier than expected, I simply could not stop screaming. So if you want to know what it was like at my house last night, play that sound over and over for 5 straight minutes, add 2 Australian Shepherds barking, and prancing around me, and you might get an idea of how I might respond if you throw something at me that I am completely not prepared for.
Once Rick had bounded up the stairs to the rescue not knowing what was causing the screaming, or even WHO was doing the screaming (he’s never actually heard me scream before, I can at least be proud to say) and once the hysteria had died down, and I could get a grip on the fact that Josh was here, in the flesh, safe and sound, we poured wine all around, and talked and talked and talked until much later than I’d planned on staying up.
Then this morning we picked Josh up and showed up at Abbie’s coffee stand. She responded much more appropriately than I did.
Every time I watch that little video I get a lump in my throat.
Only 2 questions really remain: What on earth did the neighbors think? And why did they not come running to find out what was wrong with me?