“Yeah, it’s been great. Peaceful. So … where are we going?”
“That is a surprise.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why?”
“Because I want to say thank you for the surfing lesson last week, and also for … how nice you were to me, later on.”
Thinking about my hike this morning and what I realized about “Ghost of You,” I’m speechless. How can I convey mysorrow to her in a way that doesn’t sound lame? Finally I decide to just say, “It was nothing.”
She looks at the road as she quietly replies, “Not to me.”
Once we’ve been driving for a bit and the weight of the conversation fades, I tease her about the Kia Soul.
“What? It’s a good car,” she argues. “I used to want one of these in high school.”
I catch a glimpse of myself in the side mirror, thinking how meta this is: I’m Griffin Hurley, masquerading as country bro Riff Hurley, masquerading as something resembling the old Griffin Hurley. I’m like my own Russian nesting doll.
“I just never imagined you driving anything that didn’t strictly require premium unleaded fuel.”
She scoffs. “This is for going incognito. Anyway, what do you drive?”
“A Bronco Raptor.”
“Okay, nice.”
“Maybe I’ll take you for a ride in it sometime. Ever been off-roading?”
She shakes her head.
“That’s one place I don’t have to worry about being recognized,” I say.
“Is it because all those dust clouds obscure the view?”
“Probably. That, and most celebrities tend to favor the more gentle outdoor activities, like golfing.”
“Or, at best, hanging out on a big ranch,” she suggests.
By the time we hit actual traffic, Harmony has turned on the radio and we’ve critiqued a few of the latest releases. We skirt the edge of the city with its mid-rise apartment building, offices, coffee shops, and restaurants. The sight of a specific Italian restaurant somehow spurs a heated discussion about whether Pop-Tarts are actually a type of ravioli.
“It’s two layers of dough with filling inside,” Harmony says.
“By that definition,” I say, “any pie with a double crust is also a raviolo.”
She laughs. “‘Raviolio’?”
“That’s the correct singular. ‘Ravioli’ is plural.”
“I know but it sounds weird and most people just say ravioli for both. That’s like referring to one spaghetti noodle as a ‘spaghetto.’”
“Yes, that’s how you should say it.”
Now she snort-laughs.
“I fail to see what’s funny,” I tell her, even though I’m on the brink of laughter myself.
“Okay, Mr. Journalism. I bet you also correct people to say ‘whom’ and ‘whomever,’ and ‘none of usis’ instead of ‘none of usare.’”
“Correct language is not a toxic trait.”
