The Need to Talk

“I know what I’m doing, I can do this myself.”

I recoiled at the uncharacteristic anger in Sandi’s tone. “That wasn’t what I was saying.”

“Fine.” She blew out her irritation in an impatient huff. “Okay, what is it?”

“Click on the ‘File’ button. It’ll bring up the options you need.” I kept the hurt from my words and tone.

Sandi’s mood changed as if she’d flicked a switch. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

I returned to my work and left her to finish hers. With minutes remaining before she needed to leave, she shut down her computer and stood.

“All done.” She spoke as if there had never been a cross word between us.

“Maybe, not.” I could have shrugged this off, but I knew better. No matter how unpleasant for me, I had to continue. “I wanted to help. I felt like nothing I did could make things better. Like I was kind of worthless.”

Sandi wrapped her arms around me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just that I had to get done and I had so little time.” She kissed me. “I’m sorry.”

I gave her a tight squeeze. “Apology accepted. Now, get to work and have a terrific evening.”

Normally, that would have been the end of the matter. Not this time. We’d been sniping at one another too many times lately and I knew what that meant. There was something deeper in our relationship that needed mending.

“Sandi,” I said when she entered the door later that night. “We need to talk.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking that all evening.”

“Why don’t you sit and relax while I get you some coffee. I just made a fresh pot.”

“Sounds heavenly. I can’t remember how long it’s been since we’ve had a good talk.”

William R. Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.