By Lisa Colburn
“Uh-huh,” Abigail said, rolling her eyes. She’d heard it all before.
Dreamily, Sam continued. “And then I’ll buy us a sailboat, one of those 30-footers, and we’ll sail around the world, just you and me. Think of it, Abby, the two of us out on the open seas.”
“Uh-huh,” Abigail said, turning onto her side so she could pick up her magazine. The August issue of Better Homes and Gardens featured an article on the Best Backyard Barbecue.
They were lying on the dunes at Cape Cod, their first weeklong vacation in two years. The little weather-beaten cottage they had rented stood 100 yards back from the beach. Abigail lay on her back on the ancient patchwork quilt they had dragged from the steamer trunk in the cottage’s living room. Sam lay on his stomach, straw boater tipped forward to shade his face. Three days into their vacation, his nose was already pink and peeling.
“And hey there, I’ve got another idea,” Sam said. “After we get back from sailing around the world, we can get one of those big camper vans, like you know the kind Winnebago makes? We can sell the boat and get us one of those. We can visit all 50 states, even Alaska and Hawaii. Wouldn’t that be swell, Abby?”
“How do you propose we get to Hawaii in a camper van?” Abigail snapped.
“Well now, hey,” Sam said, looking surprised and a little wounded.
Abigail sat up and looked Sam hard in the face. “It took us two years to save up enough money for this vacation in a tiny little shack just down the road from us.”
“Now wait just a doggone minute,” Sam protested.
“And,” Abigail said, plowing ahead, “your job at the plant pays barely enough to live on, much less go on one of your grand adventures.”
“Well, a man’s gotta have dreams,” Sam said.
“What about my dreams?” Abigail retorted.
“Your dreams? Whaddya mean?”
“My dreams, yes, my dreams. Don’t you think I have dreams, Sam?”
“Well, gosh, I hadn’t thought about that.”
“No, I don’t suppose you have ever thought about that.”
Angrily, Abigail stood and grabbed her hat and the magazine. “I’m going back to the cottage.”
As she stomped away, Sam looked after her, bemused. Sighing, he turned his thoughts toward sailing the seven seas—alone this time.
Lisa Colburn lives and writes in Leesburg, Virginia. A certified Amherst Writers & Artists facilitator, she leads creative writing workshops and retreats in Northern Virginia and Maryland. You can find her at www.marketstreetwriters.com.
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