Bruno Mars croons to me over the radio as I crawl through rush hour traffic to get home to make supper.
“I’d catch a grenade for ya…”
To which I reply, “Just taking out the garbage would be nice”
“Throw my hand on a blade for ya”
“How about starting the potatoes?”
“I’d jump in front of a train for ya”
“Something tells me these are false promises, Bruno.”
“Take a bullet right through my brain”
“I’d much prefer a foot rub”
The SUV dude beside me catches me conversing with my radio martyr and I give him a goofy smile back. He is wearing sunglasses on a cloudy day so, who is looking silly now?
I get home and I smell dinner. My fellow has indeed emptied the recycling and started the potatoes and prepped the salmon and he’s making his famous mushrooms. It’s so kind I get that little sore tingle in the end of my nostril hairs. The way we divide our home labour, I do most of the cooking, so this is a real treat. As he chops the scallions I eye him. Would we die for each other? Only if it made sense. Because, you know, we have kids. No need to be foolish. He would definitely get between me and a grizzly. I would definitely get between him and a public speaking engagement.
Our kids have abandoned us for their friends, something we’re getting used to. So, it’s just me and Bub eating this marvellous meal he’s prepared. I think I should throw him a bone so I ask something that I really don’t care to ask.
“So, do you think Biden has a chance?”
Long passionate intelligent frightening monologue. I munch my mushrooms and listen. The conversation expands into civil war, the rise of fascism, the obliteration of the 49th parallel, the quiet world domination of China, my eyes start to glaze over it’s so depressing…
“Bella, you’re quiet.”
“Maybe we should buy a little villa in Italy, you know, like Rick and Sylvia said F this and moved to Slovenia.”
“Nah. Us? We need to invest with Darcy.”
And we go back to our puttering as he loads the dishwasher and I scrub the pots. I think, “I hope I don’t ever have to catch a grenade for ya…but if I have to, I think I would.”
