MOONLIGHT DRIVE

Nicole is under the weather. Seems the pressures of this life are too much for her. That whole thing with the bug didn't help much either. Now she has a different kind of bug. Anyway, she's inconsolable. I tried bating her out of her dark den with chocolates, but that did no good. Then I tried to tell her that everything was going to be alright. Even did that little Bob Marley Rasta jig and everything with it. Shot down. She screamed at me. Well, not really, but when someone that you desperately care about says "thanks alot" while you're trying to comfort them, they might as well be screaming at you.
It was our first really good day - weather wise - in a while, so I finally coaxed her outside for a long drive. She agreed, as long as there was a promise of presents at the end of this long drive. (Why do women, who seem to have everything, always love, even crave, this notion of 'presents'?) So, I'm working on the whole 'presents' deal in my mind - post promise - and we're off.
Before I know it, two hours have passed and the gas tank is past E. Riding along Lakeshore Drive, far north of our home in Chicago, and the moon is bold. I never even saw the sun set. I look over at Nicole and she's almost asleep. A full smile on her face. I think of Jim singing to Pam. Singing about a love that defies our human exsistence. A love that has spiritual strains. A love that melts away the pressures of this life with a supreme peace. And I think...that's where I'm at right now. The moon and the quiet and the smile and Nicole.
I pulled off the drive and into the BP for petrol. I think we were going over the gas intake valve and she was jostled awake. "Where are we," she asked me.
"Far and Away," I replied with a smirk.
"And now..." She was in that half dream stage. Starting to go back out.
"Now, we go home."
"That's nice. I want that." And...she's back out. No screaming.
I pumped the gas and started back down the drive. No presents at the end of this trip. I hope she's forgiving.
I carried her back in the house. Put her to bed. Not much out of her at all, except for that beautiful beg she gave me in the driveway. And now I'm looking at her again. Smile still on that beautiful porcelain face. It's amazing the transcendent power of a little moonlight. The darkness of day into the brightness of night. Maybe she did get her 'presents' after all.