"What's happening?" I asked, squatting before her, genuinely concerned now. "What's wrong? Do you hate the shelves? Should we paint the room? Did I get the color coding wrong? Let's have it. We can fix it, whatever it is. Would now be the time to tell you I took a week off from work and we're leaving for Vermont tomorrow?" I said, pulling the plane tickets out of my back pocket to show them to her.
She took them from me, turned them over in between her fingers, shook her head slowly, then looked up at me and cried harder.
"Nothing's wrong. Everything's wonderful," she said, trying to pull it together. "I mean, probably yes to the last two, but," she said, tilting her tear stained face to the side.
We shared a little laugh and I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thanks, for making me feel lik
