The day was any other Tuesday. The day was unique unto itself. Work was the same. Work was different. New leadership. I became some leadership. I followed. The day dragged. The day sped along. Trivia came and went. There was a substitute host. We were in the lead. We lost it. We had a new waitress. She didn’t know our orders. We were answering all the questions correct. We had a fighting chance. We blew it.
All of a sudden, the minutes rang out and I was usually 3/4 of the way home by now. I’d have to call Maga on the drive home. I apologized to the driver who took the first of two possible U-turns without any prompting and bless his soul. Yes!
Maga answered, “Hello, dear,” without any identifying information given by me. I was technically earlier than usual (if by usual you mean the past year, but not the 9-10 years prior to that.) We had our usual chat about the weather (we got doused by Tropical Storm Florence. she got hot heat hot hot august weather) and location (yes, I was at Trivia) and family (all doing grand). On my end, there was nothing (minus me not having a pen and paper to jot down her best lines) holding back the conversation. There were clear skies and no more puddles and all the U turns (yes, this drive requires at least two, sometimes three). It was clear sailing until the pill ladies arrived and outside forces shook our usual Tuesday night conversation.
We spoke of nothing much but everything in between. We were so far apart but closer than ever before.
Abigail Mumford 