was.
The sentence people use when they want desire to sound philosophical.
Claire began pacing.
“You come home from work. You shower. You watch the news. Sometimes you read in the garage. Then you go to bed. We don’t travel. We don’t dance. We don’t do anything spontaneous.”
“I asked you to go to Yellowstone last summer.”
She waved her hand.
“That isn’t the point.”
“You said you didn’t want to waste vacation days.”
“Exactly. You always make everything practical.”
I studied her.
She had once loved that about me.
When the furnace died during our first winter, practical had been reassuring.
When her father needed surgery and insurance refused part of the claim, practical had been useful.
When she lost her job during the pandemic and cried at the dining room table because she thought we would lose the house, practical had paid the mortgage.
But people often rename
