The Secret – A Short Story

I wrote this short story in the summer of 2024, after watching an elderly couple in the grocery store. They were the cutest thing. In spite of their ages and what I’m sure was a marriage that had its moments, there was a very clear chemistry and affection between them. It made me think about what it takes to make it all work. After watching the way he made her laugh and the cute moments they shared, I decided the secret lies in the laughter and friendship.

I fought with my husband most of the day. He is infuriating. He is selfish sometimes and when he is, he’s wildly bad at seeing anything but his own way of doing, well – anything. On the other hand, I am sometimes an asshole who is tired of taking care of all the things. At our worst today, I had a moment. An ugly thought entered my head, and I questioned why I was even here. Why, I thought, did I give up my peace, and choose the hard way? In a moment of sheer frustration with me, he ran his right hand through his hair. In that instant, the man I love – the man I committed the rest of my days to – reappeared before my eyes.

When we met, this was a thing he’d do. He’d run his hand through his hair, and I’d initially interpreted it as a sign of . . . disinterest, exasperation, fatigue, frustration – I don’t know. Whatever it was, I was convinced it wasn’t positive. When I started losing my heart to him, it became endearing. I loved running my own hands through his hair. We were young then. Everything seemed so easy. Infatuated and in love, the long hard days were few and far between. I realized, the more I understood him, that in those moments when he ran his hands through his hair, his vulnerability was at an all-time high. The hand going to his hair became a sign of the truest part of him. But it also represented my longing for him. In those early stages of a love affair, as you get to know someone, you notice the little things. The little things become big things. This was one of those little things. It began to remind me of everything good thing I saw in him. In the kitchen that day, I was on my last legs – exhausted and tired of choosing the hard way. The moment he ran his hand through his hair I knew that he was in it with me. He was frustrated and tired too. I took a step toward him, and his eyes immediately softened. I leaned into him, and his arms surrounded me. And just like that, the world felt right side up again.

***

              A couple hours later, after we’d talked through the conflict – a conflict that died that day, never to be resurrected again, we walked through the grocery store together, tackling our list, aisle by aisle. As we rounded a corner into the aisle with magazines and haircare products, we ran into an elderly couple standing in the middle of the aisle. The husband held a magazine in his hand and held it open for his wife – pointing at something only they could see. The wife laughed. It was one of those true, deep laughs. Joy seeped out of her crinkling eyes. When she recovered from her belly laugh, she looked up at him with a smile spreading across her face. He was already watching her with total delight. His face, worn and weathered, had softened the longer she laughed. She kissed his cheek and said, as she pushed the cart past him, “Travieso!” He laughed and continued flipping pages while she wandered down the rest of the aisle.

Graham slips his hand around my waist and pulls me a little closer. He kisses my hair and then returns to his job grabbing my favorite shampoo from the top shelf – which I can’t reach. I look back at the old guy and he’s still thumbing through the pages of the magazine. I think about the sheer number of inside jokes they must share after so many years together. When he showed her the magazine, all he did was point. Not a word was uttered between the two of them until she called him a troublemaker on the way to finish grocery shopping. I reached for a box of business size envelopes, just to the left of the old guy and chucked them into my cart. From the other end of the aisle, his wife called out, “ándale mi viejo!”

He set the magazine on the rack, and we make eye contact. He says with the slightest hint of an accent, “She’s very loud, no? She’s losing her hearing. I’m slowly losing my eyesight. We’re a perfect pair. Been falling for her every day for 51 years.”

I smile at him. “It seems so,” I say. “What’s your secret?” I ask him.

“We’re best friends. We never forget that. No matter what,” he says.

“That’s sound advice,” Graham says.

“It’s great advice,” I say. “Thank you.” He nods his head, gives me a little wave and then wanders off toward his wife.

Graham whispers in my ear, as he puts my shampoo in the cart, “It’s like looking into a crystal ball, eh?”

“Oh yeah, for sure, mi viejo.  Good to know we’re on the right path.”

“That we are,” my husband says. “What’s next on the list?”