“That’s faint praise from someone who sounds so pissed,” he answered. “That’s what faint praise is, Gerry; a compliment from the pissed,” I informed him.
"Oh, no! Are you getting on the freeway?” I asked, grabbing Gerry’s arm again as he pulled onto the 405 ramp.
“Yeah,” he said, totally calm like he’d pulled a 31-foot horse trailer/RV with a horse, a wife and two dogs behind a really long pickup down the L.A. freeway every day.
I covered my eyes and said, “Tell me when it’s over.”
“You aren’t going to scream or anything, are you?”
“That’s sexist!” I said, my hand still over my eyes but looking at him out the side.
“Was Clueless sexist because those two girls screamed the whole time they were on the freeway.”
“Were you in that movie?” I asked, taking another movie dig at him, taking my hand away from my eyes long enough to look at him. Gerry said nothing but I could see his jaw working. “You know, I never got your autograph,” I noted.
“It’s on our marriage license,” he answered in a clipped tone.
Touché.
"What’s our ETA?” I asked his truck, leaning into the big screen in the middle of the dash and speaking clearly. It did not respond but Gerry did.
“About 30 minutes. Also, it’s not Alexa,” he laughed.
I wasn’t going to waste this old lady moment; I leaned forward again toward the big truck screen, “Hey, Siri!”
My phone and watch said in unison, “I’m listening.”
“Nope,” Gerry said, and he laughed again.
“Thirty minutes,” I noted, looking at my app. I realized that the grocery store was closing early because it’s Christmas Day but I said nothing to Gerry because I didn’t want him to go any faster. “Our groceries will be ready at Ralph’s in 25 minutes. Is there a patch or an upgrade you could get so your truck will talk to you?” I asked.
Gerry shook his head. “I don’t need my truck talking to me,” and then he looked at me. “I have enough people talking to me while I’m trying to pull an RV and horse trailer down the freeway.”
I looked at him and then smiled. Oh, he was in it now. I wondered if he knew how long it was going to take for me to thaw out over that remark. I was already amped and terrified from his driving, but I said nothing to this cutting remark. Neither of us said anything for several long minutes. We seemed to be getting to our destination faster than Gerry’s estimate. Finally, I spoke and I could see his arms relax from the stiff way they were holding the steering wheel.
“You do realize that you’re pulling a sex wagon behind this Siri-less truck, right?” I asked him, eyebrow raised, wondering if he grasped the depths of my offense to which he had plumbed.
“Yeah,” he said slowly, looking at me.
“A bed on wheels if you will. And right now, it’s empty? There’s no sex in it. And it’s up to me to put the sex in your sex wagon,” I finished and sat back in his big leather truck seat, looking at him and crossing my legs.
Gerry nodded slowly, parking sideways over about six parking spaces at Ralph’s and putting it in park.
“You know,” Gerry said, changing the subject, “We could have that painted on the back end. Like the name of a boat: The Sex Wagon.”
“Gerry, if anyone lays eyes on you,” I waved my hand over his face and his body, “They’ll know what it is, you don’t need to tell them,” I answered, letting him get off track. We were going to stay off track for quite a while.
“That’s faint praise from someone who sounds so pissed,” he hedged.
“That’s what faint praise is, Gerry; a compliment from the pissed,” I informed him. Looking around at the Ralph’s storefront, I said, “Tonight, this wagon is just going to be the Chuck Wagon,” I said, explaining how it was going to be. “I’m going to go check on my horse,” I informed him.
I climbed out of the truck and slammed the door. Then I smiled and waved at my husband. Like the Queen of the Sex Wagon.
Copyright Mare Loch 2022 © Excerpt from Orange Grove: The Reformation of a Midlife Wife. All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed on this website and all subsequent publications are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this website may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
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