The other evening, my husband went to bed before me. He was wiped after a long day at work, and I was still buzzed from my day of writing. So he went to bed, and I watched a murder mystery on TV.
In the show, the sleuth was in love with Woman A. Woman A was marrying someone else. Woman B is a wonderful woman who loves the sleuth dearly, but she’s not Woman A. So the sleuth tries to love Woman B, while all the while loving Woman A in spite of himself. It made me feel really badly for Woman B! (If you recognize this, then we’re both PBS fans!)
So I turned off the lights, checked the locks and puttered off toward bed. I crawled into bed next to my husband who was snoring deeply. But I got to thinking… Wouldn’t it terrible to be the Plan B? I knew I wasn’t… but what if things had turned out differently, and I was?
This is how a novelist’s mind works when she really should be sleeping and is staying awake in bed instead. She works herself into knots, replotting her own story. What if?? I decided that the only way to untie this unrealistic knot was to get some reassurance. So I snuggled up to my husband’s back. He didn’t wake up.
I kissed him. Nada.
I patted him. No luck.
I rolled over and put my back against his. Nothing. I reached back and smacked him harder.
Mr. Johns sputtered and moaned.
Me: Oh, are you awake?
Him: Uhh…. Yeah….
Me: So, I was just wondering, honey… Am I the love of your life?
Him: (garbled) Yup.
Me: The one you’d measure everyone else against if I were to die an untimely death?
Him: Of course, baby. Soul mates.
Me: *smile*
Him: *snore*
Because men have a very hard time saying the right thing when they are half asleep, unless the right thing happens to be the true thing.
Being married to me must be interesting. Mr. Johns finds me intriguing, but that’s because I was created for him. (He was born first.) Or you could say that God created him for me before I was even born. Regardless, we were made for each other, so when I wake him out of dead sleeps to ask him What If questions, he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, the next morning, he doesn’t seem to remember.
That might be lucky. 😉
