Tying the Knot
“Oh, my God, I forgot my book,” Layce said as she swerved toward the shoulder of the highway.
“No worries,” I said. I dug around in my bag (not a purse—a bag.) “I brought a book. I just had this feeling that I should bring one even though I most likely won’t have the opportunity to read.”
“Whew, I almost panicked there for a minute.” She swerved back into her lane.
We were going to see the surgeon to have my neurotic tendencies removed. Just kidding. Actually, it was for a spine consultation but that’s another tale. Layce was going to have to sit in the waiting room while I went in and talked to Mac-the-Knife. We’ve got this drill down by now. She’s a good little camper driving me around and then waiting while I talk shop with a doc.
Layce glanced over at me. “So you brought your Kindle, right?”
“No, just a good old fashioned book of short stories. So you’re in luck—you’ll have lots to choose from.”
“What collection of short stories is it? Something by Kurt Vonnegut, or Erma Bombeck, David Sedaris?” She looked over at me, hopefully.
“No, it’s something totally new. I discovered it when I was reorganizing the books. I wanted all the travel books to be together. You know how I put all the humor books in one section, all the 19th century literary classics…”
Layce cut me off. She was well acquainted with my organizational jags. “What’s the name of the book?”
“Oh, I think you’ll like it. I’m reading a very interesting story about a group of subsistence hunters in Greenland.”
“It’s this book by Paul Theroux. He put together a collection of the best travel stories from 2001,” I said brightly.
“Why didn’t you just bring me a book on the history of knot tying? That would be more exciting.”
“Don’t get all huffy. Let me read you some of your story options…Travels with Chekhov—I know how you like him, or Volcano Alley Is Ticking or Fox and Whale, Priest and Angel. Maybe that one has something about knots in it.”
Layce glared at me. “Only you would bring a book like that. I am going to be trapped in a doctor’s office with a travel book.”
“It’ll take your mind off being cooped up.”
She swerved off the freeway.
“What are you doing? I’m going to be late for my appointment.”
“Finding a grocery store so I can buy a something to read. And you won’t have to worry about being late if you’re dead. Because if I don’t get something decent to read I’m going to kill you.”
“I used to have a book on knot tying. It’s quite interesting. There’s the rapala knot, the blood knot, the poacher’s knot, the sheepshank, the lark’s head, the clove hitch —
She interrupted, “The noose knot.”
You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking. I shut up and opened my book.
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