Joan walked in, set her satchel on the table.
She paused and looked at Ray, who turned to her
and flashed a smile. "How was the drive?" he asked.
"I hated it," she stated and plopped down on
the couch beside him. "I don't like the drive.
It's too far after a long day at work.
It's like still being on the clock another
fifty minutes, when you're already tired."
"I know," he said, taking her hand in his.
"You do a lot for us. You really do.
And I appreciate every last bit."
"Stop it," Joan said. "You're gonna make me cry.
You know I know how much it means to you.
You pay me back in ways that say you love me.
That's all that matters... And you'll find a job."
"Thank you," Ray said and chuckled. "Now I have
to think about whether or not I have a complex.
And I don't want to be self-diagnosing..."
She punched him in the shoulder. "Don't be silly.
You're better than you think you are. Some day
you'll have a practice of your own. Then we'll
have everything in life we've ever wanted."
He smiled, rubbing his arm. "You haven't asked
about my day yet," he said and pulled out
a set of keys from inside his right pocket.
"I hope you like it, but I got the job,
and got you a new car instead of me."