Someone suggested a second version of this tale. And, I do take requests, so here it is.
Roll of the Dice (2)
“Hon, I can’t find my passport.”
My neat-freak, habitual husband couldn’t find his passport? I dried my hands on the dishcloth and went upstairs, where a multitude of manila folders were spread out across the carpet. Louis’ eyes were glassy with panic. I knew how important this international meeting was to him, so I didn’t make my usual acerbic joke.
“When did you last have it?” I asked.
“When I came back from England.”
“Not since then?”
We searched everywhere: coats, luggage, files. Nothing.
“Maybe someone snatched it off you when you were going through customs…or you dropped it,” I said. “Did you check your car? See if it fell under your seat?”
He returned moments later waving his passport. “I found it! Crap, I’ve got to finish packing.”
We hustled through his packing, sure we must have forgotten something, except his passport. We kissed briefly and then he left, me waving from the doorway.
I poured a glass of wine and asked Alexa to play my radio station. I cleaned up the kitchen, made the dog’s dinner, and then heard about the plane crash, my brain only half-working until I heard that the flight left Dulles for Heathrow. The glass of wine dropped from my fingers.