"Spouse"

I stare at the television holding my coffee mug with a picture of my dog Sissy on the side. Just as I was leaving for work there was breaking news of an accident. Apparently an SUV had overturned, killing the driver. Normally I would just see something like this, make a pouty face, and continue with my day. If I were in a foul mood I would say to myself "That's why you don't drive SUV's!" and feel better about myself for owning a hybrid vehicle. But I could not turn away from the screen this time because the overturned SUV was my husbands. Or at least it looked like it. The phone rang and I answered it.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Oh, my, God! Are you watching the news?" my best friend Cheryl asked me. Cheryl has been my best friend since junior high when we were on the swim team. She stuck with it while I gravitated towards jocks and assholes. Then I found Thomas. "Do you think…"

"I'm so not sure" I said. "I mean, that's a popular style of SUV." Even though I was watching what could possibly be my husband of five years burn alive on TV I could not find that part of my heart that was supposed to make me upset. I looked at my hand holding the mug and it was steady as a rock.

"Have you called him to find out if he's okay?" Cheryl asked.

"Uh…no" I replied.

Before you make snap judgments about me let me try to explain. I love Thomas. I have loved him since I was drawing our names in hearts during class. But the past couple of years have been hard. No, Thomas wasn't abusive. He rarely drank and when he did he never got crazy. He actually got funnier. I encouraged him to drink more often and he got upset with me pointing out that I knew that his family had a problem with alcoholism. He stopped drinking after that completely. Thomas was kind; he remembered every birthday and anniversary. He even sent gifts to my nieces and nephews for me knowing that I would forget to do so. He would give me back rubs when I got home from work even though he worked twelve-hour shifts.

He was everything a woman could ask for. He was in shape, tall, and loving. But for some reason the best things about him were what I hated the most. I wanted some excitement. I wanted him to yell at me once in a while. I would let the dishes pile up in the hopes of him coming home and getting mad about it. I would turn down sex for weeks at a time praying that he would scream at me. At least cheat on me. Something. But no. He would do the pile of dishes or just cuddle with me instead of having sex. Thomas was perfect. Perfectly boring.

"Well call him!" Cheryl said. She was freaking out more than me. That wouldn't look good when the funeral rolled around and Cheryl was throwing herself on the casket while I sat silently cleaning my nails and checking my make up.

"We don't even know for sure if it's him, Cheryl" I said trying my best to muster some emotion. But I couldn't. It had been a nice morning. Sissy used her litter box and Thomas had cleaned the kitchen and made great coffee before he left for work. The only bad part of the morning was that the paperboy had thrown the Times in the gutter again. But even that didn't bring me down.

"Can you please just check?" Cheryl asked. Fucking Cheryl. She was making me look bad. You know what Thomas reminded me of? A George Foreman Grill. When I first bought one it was the best thing since ice cream cake. I used it all the time and bragged about it to my friends. Then after a few weeks I stuck it in a drawer. I think I have used it twice since I bought it six years ago. Thomas is like a grill.

"Wait" I told Cheryl. Thomas pulled in front of the house. He wasn't dead at all. This is the part where I smile and the emotional weight of dread lifts. "Thomas just pulled up" I told her.

"Thank God!" she said. I am going to ask Thomas of he has ever had sex with Cheryl. Her concern has me concerned.

Thomas stepped out of his SUV and waved at me standing in the front window. He pat his back pocket and smacked the front of his head in the universal "I forgot my wallet! Silly me!" manner. Who laughs about leaving their wallet? He noticed the newspaper in the gutter and shook his head. As he bent over to pick it up a trash truck plowed into him, crushing him in between the front bumper of the truck and the back of his SUV. The newspaper landed on the front porch.

"Cheryl?" I asked.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"Do you need a grill?"