A View from the Train.
They were older than me by decades, edging gently towards eighty. They were just a few rows up from me on the train back to RI. She wore a white blouse with a necklace of bright green beads, most likely awarded to her by a grandchild. She kept fingering the beads as she talked with her husband, who sat close and leaned in so close to her that the brim of his hat touched her gray hair.Their quiet conversation caught my attention as I read the bridal magazine I had picked up in the train station. I cast a glance at them, smiled, and went back to flipping the glossy pages. Until -
“Oh my goodness. Oliver! Did you …”
I looked up. The old man flashed a grin to his wife and tipped his hat.
She waved her hand underneath her nose, her green beads shuffling around her collar like horses around a track.
“Oh Oliver! That is the smelliest fart I have ever, ever smelled! You are a disgusting old man!”
I didn’t expect it. A laugh escaped me and I quickly ushered my hand to my mouth to cover my smile.
The old woman turned to me.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’ll know when it hits you. He’s such a nice man, aside from the gas.”
Her voice was smiling. Her husband leaned over her and gave me a wave.
“Sorry, miss! I had bacon for breakfast." He took a little bow. "Oh, a wedding magazine! You must be getting married. Is he gassy?”
I laughed until I almost cried, hiding my face in my wedding magazine.
Chris, I look forward to being weird and old with you.