Page 95 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a Coney dog. That’s the hotdog with the chili, right?”

My hand to my heart, I gasped. “We had a good run,” I teased. “My dear Blake, that’s a chili dog. Meat, beans, cheese and even jalapeños. A Coney dog has a bean-less Coney sauce topped with chopped onion and mustard.”

“Now that I know can we stay married?”

“Depends. I need your solemn promise that you’ll try one.”

“Cross my heart. I’d do it now if I could get away. I’m stuck here in Chicago for the week.”

“Chicago? You didn’t tell me you were going to Chicago.”

“I told you I was traveling for business.”

“Are you interviewing for another position there?”

“Not an interview per se, but more meetings with companies to let them know about my departure from Parker Holdings. It’s best to do these things in person.”

“I’ll be here, living for the weekend.”

“It won’t be long.”

“I miss you, Blake. I miss you already.”

He stayed quiet for a moment and then sighed heavily. “I miss you, too, sweetheart.”

We stayed on the phone talking for a little while longer, but I think for the both of us, we were just ready to go to sleep and get through each next day until he flew into Detroit.

The next afternoon, both Pen and Sierra showed up to whisk me away to a girls’ lunch at a new bistro downtown that I’d never heard of before. We had a good time. The morning after that, Pen showed to take me to the doctor. We just went to a MedExpress. I had to make sure that I could put weight on my foot again. With the swelling down, I got the go-ahead to ditch the damn chair, which I promptly donated because I never wanted to see that thing again.

Me: Free at last!

I texted my husband, sending him a pic of my unwrapped ankle and another of me standing on it.

Blake:Too many clothes.

Me:I’m with Pen.

Blake:She can keep her clothes on. She’s hot, but not my type.

Me:You’re an idiot.

Blake:Ah, but I’m your idiot.

Always. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on my idiot again.

Blake:Talk to you tonight? Meeting about to start.

Me:Tonight. Love you.

Blake:Love you, too.

And because we could, I asked Pen to take me to a farmers’ market. I bought a plethora of vegetables, some fruits, and a couple of baked goods before she dropped me back off at home.

“I’ll have Ant pick you up at six,” she said.

“No need. I’ll drive to your place.”

She tried to protest, but my Outback sat in the garage unused since I’d moved to Vermont.

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