“It doesn’t seem to be doing you any good. I mean, think about it. The first thing people do before they travel is what? We pack things we need but mostly things we don’t need but think we do. We stuff and cram, we shove and jam. Then we’re off to the airport, excited and ready to fly. We reach the ticket counter and check our baggage. We check our baggage because we’ve been told that in order to fly, we have to be free of the extra weight. Then we board the plane, find our seat, fasten our belts, and we fly. Nearly touching the clouds, we soar. Then, after landing, what’s the first thing we do? We rush to the baggage claim area. Everyone stands, jockeying for position, almost coming to blows, dead set on making sure that no one else claims their baggage. Some customized, some personalized, but all hand-picked to fit their specific tastes and individual needs. We fight to claim the very thing that weighed us down and prevented us from flying in the first place. If that’s not irony, then what is? But what do I know, I’m just a dusty old contractor. You want to stop and get something to eat?”

“No, thank you. I think I’ve just been fed. Fed and read. You must have been reading one of those popular self-help books. I didn’t know dusty old contractors could read.”

“We can’t. I saw it on Oprah. ” He paused to look up through the front windshield. “Would you look at that? It’s snowing.”

I took my attention off William for a moment to look out of the window. “It is, isn’t it? A little early, but it’s nice. A little snow falling, a nice big cozy van…you wouldn’t be trying to set a mood, would you?”

“With you? No, you got way too much baggage for me.”

Ouch. “Thanks.”

“I tell you what, why don’t you just relax? Lean the seat back and take a nap. I’ll get us home safely.”

As I leaned back, I thought about what William had said. He made a lot of sense. Probably more sense than ever. In a Dr. Phil kind of way, his words were sexy. Don’t get me wrong; I’m in no way suggesting that Dr. Phil is sexy, but having answers to the issues that plague the feminine race, and presenting them in the way that he does, causes a certain tingle of eroticism.

The snow fell and the night faded into eternity. I felt the constant gentle flow of warmth pumping from the van’s oversized vents across my face. My ears were caressed by the mellow sounds of Magic 102.3. I was very relaxed. More at peace than actually tired.