“You don’t have to do that.”
He did, of course, and it had to be his idea, which was fine. An occasional trip to the store was the only demand placed on him during their vacation. Susan took care of everything else. He reached for the keys to the rental car.
“Need anything else while I’m there?”
She shook her head, radiating domestic felicity like a space heater. He wondered whether retirement, when it finally arrived, would be like this — a soft nest to rest in and nothing to worry about.
The morning air was ocean-moist and the South Florida sun hadn’t risen high enough to cook the interior of the Camry. He pressed the key fob, heard the lock click, and got in. The car still had that welcoming new-car smell. He put the key in the ignition, reached for the shoulder harness, strapped himself in, and backed out of their assigned parking spot. Terry was off to Publix for paper towels.