Something happens when youre cooped up in a car with the same person for hours.
Issues and grievances otherwise dormant may bubble to the surface.
There are few distractions, no doors to slam or corners for sulking.
Nothing but time and the open highway.
But we brought along a bit more baggage than the kind we loaded into the Nissans trunk.
The drive became part therapy a crucible for testing, and ultimately strengthening, our relationship.
As so often happens in marriage, it wasnt what I said but how I said it.
He detected the thin vein of disapproval in my question, and he didnt appreciate it.
Maybe under other circumstances, an apology would have sufficed and we would have moved on.
But this wasnt an isolated incident.
Its a problem we hadnt solved in 14 years, and it didnt seem likely we would now.
As I climbed into the passengers seat, I felt certain our vacation was already ruined.
If our path to resolution would be fraught with difficulty, our drive would be simple.
With a few scenic detours, it would be about 1,000 miles and 18 hours of driving time round-trip.
The landscape as we drove east from Tampa is one you dont often see in Florida.
Away from the beaches, suburbia softens into open countryside.
Citrus groves and pastures line the road, not a strip mall or condo in sight.
So talk I did.
But our conversation went in circles.
The weather matched our mood, a half-hearted drizzle as we walked the roundabout anchoring the downtowns historic district.
Stores, including the quaint soda shop, were closed up early for Sunday.
