Chapter Two: Personal Surprise

I park my car in my messy garage, and then I sneak to the door that leads to the mud-room. I slip out of my work shoes, their proud, normally polished surfaces scuffed from my excitement. I tiptoe down the hallway, making sure to avoid the loose boards.

EJ, as I guessed is cleaning up from a PB and J lunch with Kylie and Tommy, our two kids. Five-year-old Kylie is singing her own version of the Star Spangled Banner, and Tommy, four, is pounding on his stuffed animals.

Maybe if we buy him a boxing bag, he’ll snuggle with it at night, I muse.

I try to avoid their innate Dad-O-Meter, but fail miserably. Soon their squeals of glee ring throughout the home, and EJ, excited, looks at me curiously.

“I’m home,” I say, intentionally leaving out an explanation, and ignoring her obvious inquisitive looks.

“I see.”

She reaches for me, and we kiss hello as the kids climb our legs.

“Why are you home?” she asks, cutting to the chase.

I sigh.

“Fine,” I relent. “If you must know, I’m home so we can pack.”

“Pack for what?”

“Guess.”

My wife gives me the look that means I’m in trouble, but sort of in a good way.

“Is it business related?” she says, rolling her eyes and resting her hands on her hips.

“Yes. How’d you know?”

“Those are the only trips we take,” she explains.

The comment stings, but I know that the revelation of the vacation will be even better for it.

“Is it in the US?” she asks.

“No.”

“Okay, I have my answer. We’re going to the annual InsuranceFest in Toronto!” she says, mocking me.

“Are you saying you didn’t enjoy the trip to Minnesota?” I ask feigning surprise.

She glares at me and growls. “No, sir, I did not like that trip,” she says stiffly.

“Well, you’re wrong, because it isn’t in Canada, and the only reason its business related is because its a company vacation. We’re going to France, EJ!”

“Your kidding,” EJ says, but I can see she knows I’m not.

I grin back at her and I open my arms. She attempts to crack my ribs in a hug.

“Just you and me,” I say, and I kiss the top of her beautiful, blonde head. “Just you, and me.”

***

I lazily loll my head on EJ’s shoulder enjoying the bliss of the moment. The plane is dark, excepting A21 who is an avid reader, and is just beginning another Dean Koontz book. I take a deep breath, the thick scent of coconut in her hair overpowers my senses. My already tired eyes close and I find myself drifting off into sleep.

I snuggle a little closer as the blackness edges closer, tucking my eyes in for the night. Then my pleasant thoughts are pricked by a painful needle. The needle is the same blasted question that I’ve been asking myself.

Why do I work for an insurance company.

Surprising myself, I begin to reassess the question. Despite the drowsy state of my mind, I imagine that the question is something else.

Why do I work as a marketer? I mentally rephrase. Because I have a creative side that nicely compliments my businessman side. Why do I work? Because I love my family, and I want to provide a house, food, some occasional fun, and a certain amount of overall comfort to them.

I pause, confused as to the nature of the beast. I try to discern what the question is. Is it a ungrateful question? An unsatisfied question?

A calling.

It comes to me, and I can’t refuse it. I suddenly know that’s what it is. Inexplicably, I know I’m right.

Okay, if it’s a calling, then what is it calling me to do? What can I do differently? I already went to college. I’ve already got the rest of my life planned. Move up in the company, and then retire. 

My mind falters, and I feel sleep creeping towards me. I do not fight, but merely leave the question hanging. It is a very un-me thing to do, but I cannot wonder why I do it. The blackness swallows my mind, and I enter the realm of sleep.