New Prairie Woman
Susie Rosso Wolf
Chapter Six
While crawling back to Northridge in traffic jammed up for unending miles I quietly sat shotgun as Kurt drove Blackie with great concentration. I wondered if he was reflecting on the miracle of love that we had just experienced together, or was he too much of a man’s man to be devoured by something so wonderful? After twenty-four years of marriage I had come to understand that my husband was not an emotional person unless he was pushed over the edge by an intense situation so moving that he was unable to hold onto that manly man kind of control that I could never possess myself. I caught myself watching him as he drove, unable to contain my curiosity.
Susie Rosso Wolf
Chapter Six
While crawling back to Northridge in traffic jammed up for unending miles I quietly sat shotgun as Kurt drove Blackie with great concentration. I wondered if he was reflecting on the miracle of love that we had just experienced together, or was he too much of a man’s man to be devoured by something so wonderful? After twenty-four years of marriage I had come to understand that my husband was not an emotional person unless he was pushed over the edge by an intense situation so moving that he was unable to hold onto that manly man kind of control that I could never possess myself. I caught myself watching him as he drove, unable to contain my curiosity.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing, I’m driving.”
“But aren’t you thinking anything?”
“No, I’m driving.”
“So, what you’re saying is that your mind is blank while you drive?”
“Well it was until you interrupted me.”
“I’ve never heard of a person who has a completely blank mind.”
“Susie, what are you doing? Can I just drive the truck, please?”
“But, don’t you want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what? I’m driving.”
“About what just happened back there in Ontario!”
“He arrived. We saw him. We fed him. Everything went well. We heard his story about Montana. We put them back on the plane and now we’re going home. What else is there to say?”
“You know, you’re a real buzz-kill.”
“I told you, I’m driving.”
I let out a huff and puff as I changed my position in the seat. Looking out the window, watching thousands of cars driving by I wondered about Robert’s life in Montana. He appeared to have changed a great deal. He’s calmer and happier than I’ve seen him in many years, minus the years I didn’t see him at all. But the change in him was visible. Montana seemed to suit him. And his description of his land and home and his girlfriend and the scenery sounded too good to be true. His town, Three Forks, sounded like something out of a movie; one Main Street, one small local grocer, gas station, post office, saddlery, dentist office, pizza joint, hotel and hardware store. The population for Three Forks and its outskirts of about 25 square miles totaled 1900 souls. There were more than 1900 people on Napa Street, Shoshone and Raymer! I imagined Robert doing business in Three Forks, wearing his Wrangler Jeans with a tin of chew in the back pocket, his boots and cowboy hat, and his cowboy attitude. He was living life slow and easy out there, alongside simple folk living a simple life. I admired him for that, and was intrigued by his decision to leave Los Angeles, again.
You really are good Susie. I admire your talent and respect the work you put into what you do.
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