Blogs

By Rita Lussier

The first time it happens, our youngest child has only been away at college for a month.

My husband Ernie and I are driving to the beach for a barefoot walk along the shoreline. And just like that, our conversation comes to a halt. His head swivels toward the open window, his eyes riveted on some passing distraction. Despite the attentive wife beside him, he lets out a long, low whistle.

I scan the sidewalk for the object of his attention. Is she blonde? A redhead, perhaps?

"Sweet,” Ernie says.

It’s hard not to notice how he looks with longing at her. The bold curve of her shoulders, the subtle tilt of her rear-end. Her long nose is an elegant contrast to her sinewy body. She is classy. She is polished. She is . . . a roadster.

Truth be told, these stolen glances are nothing new. How the shiny flash of chrome and steel lures his attention away. How the purr of an engine causes him to forget everything. 

Except for her. The fast one coming up behind him with her top down.  

By now, you’d think I’d have become accustomed to my husband’s love affair with cars. When I was busier, I never gave it much thought. But here in the courtship of our newfound freedom, I seem to examine everything.

Maybe I’m not the only one.

Not long after our trip to the beach, we’re wandering around downtown when Ernie abruptly stops.

“I’ve got a question,” he says.

“Sure,” I say, hesitating in front of the sunglasses shop.

“If you were going to buy a Jeep CJ-5 and it were only available in two colors, say bright yellow or dark green, which would you pick?”

I start to laugh, but the look on his face tells me my husband expects an answer. Doesn’t matter that we’re not in the market for a car. Doesn’t matter that I have no idea what a Jeep CJ-5 looks like. Just answer. Let me see. I like green. I like yellow. Don’t think. Just pick.

“Yellow,” I say.

“Great! So far, so good,” he says. “Mercedes 500. Midnight blue or red?”

“Blue.”

“That’s the right answer!” Ernie is smiling like a teacher who just saw a light bulb go off in his student’s head.

“It is?”

“We’re definitely on the same wavelength.”

“We are?”

Now that I’ve passed some sort of marital compatibility quiz, the kind they must publish in Motor Trend, we walk off happily into our new empty-nest life together.

Until a few months later when we’re actually shopping for a new car. I’m standing in the showroom, sandwiched between my husband and a salesman. Somehow color doesn’t seem to be at the top of anyone’s list.

“Four-wheel drive?” asks my husband.

“Of course,” replies the dealer.

Ernie’s eyes light up. “How’s the compression ratio?”

“Excellent. Coefficient of drag is decent. Torque’s right up there, too.”

“Great!” Ernie leans in closer. “McPherson struts?”

“Definitely.”

“Wheels?”

“Low-profile 18-inch alloy rims with five spokes.”

“What do you think?” Ernie turns to me, searching my face for approval.

I want to say something like I want a car that starts up when you turn the key. I want a car that’s good for hauling groceries and suitcases. I want a car I can drive without a degree in mechanical engineering.

I want to. But the words won’t come. So I just smile a low-profile-kind-of-wife smile and say the only thing I can think of:

“It all depends on your answer to my question.”

“What’s your question?”

“Moonlight silver or jet black?”

— Rita Lussier

“It’s Just How He Rolls” is an excerpt from Rita Lussier’s new book, And Now, Back to Me, Stories from an Empty Nest (She Writes Press). Rita is an award-winning journalist and writer whose column “For the Moment” was a popular feature of The Providence Journal for 12 years. Her writing also has been featured on National Public Radio, in The Boston Globe, The New York Daily News and many online publications. Recently, she won first place for her human interest story in the 2022 Erma Bombeck Writing Competition, an honor she has received three times.