Now Just Shut Up and Keep Your Hands on the Wheel

Walkin' Down A White Sandy Beach Somewhere, Eatin' Something...

"Listen," I said.

And she shook her head. "I'm not going to listen."

So we fell silent. For another 20 miles.

Then I tried again. "We can talk about it if you want."

She shook her head.

We'd been in the car for 10 hours. I'd driven her to see a long-lost relative. Then waited outside for 20 minutes.

When she came back out all she said was "home."

Hours later, we stopped for gas. I stretched my legs. She bought a Coke.

I knew better by then. I didn't ask.

But I shot her a look. And she knew what it meant.

So she took a sip of her Coke. Looked me in the eyes. And said again "Home."

Then she turned and walked back to the car.

"Home," I repeated.

Sometimes that's all you need to say.