The couple were unusually quiet as they made their way back to their old home in Mill Valley, population 5180. Becky could barely keep herself from smiling. Clement, on the other hand, could only sigh.
“Won’t be long now,” he said.
“Are you excited?” asked Becky, even though she already knew the answer.
“I dunno,” whined Clement.
“Talk to me.”
“It’s just that, I can’t believe I blew it. I wanted to do more, be more. It all just fell apart. I don’t know what I’m saying,” confessed Clement.
“There’s still time, you know. Life is a marathon, not a sprint.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
Becky stroked Clement’s arm as he drove. “It means we’re still growing.”
“You make it sound like we’re little kids.”
“Adults grow, too.”
Clement chuckled. “Yeah. Some of us grow up to be monsters.”
“Monsters don’t make things right.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better. What if this is all I’m capable of doing? Messing up other people’s lives, I mean.”
Now it was Becky’s turn to sigh. Few things are as pathetic as a man feeling sorry for himself. “Let me put it this way,” she said. “If your death makes everyone happy, you probably did everything wrong.”
Clement rolled his eyes. “That’s so helpful. Thanks.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“How do I know if I’ve done things right?”
Becky thought for a second. “Well, if you die and God happily welcomes you home, you’re okay.”
“Nice. Either way I’ve gotta die before I find out,” mused Clement.
Becky smiled. “That’s life, my dear. Don’t ask me to explain it.”
The two drove in silence for a few minutes.
Clement finally spoke. “Do you think we’ll be alright?”
Becky looked out the car window at the passing farms. “Time will tell,” she said. “Time will tell.”