My Husband Gave My Airplane Seat to His Secretary, Then Thirteen Original Patent Files Stopped Him Cold

We came out from under the overpass, and the light slid across his glasses.

“Was that all right?”

“From now on,” I said, “you tell her the grocery store.”

He nodded once, the way a man nods when he intends to keep an order.

“His office calls this car every morning now,” he said.

“Since August.”

I looked out at the median grass going brown.

“Then next time the office calls, you put them on with me.”