"It must be hard," she says, pointing to the wall with her head.
He looks at her and then to the wall.
"Huh?"
"Creating slogans, it must be hard," she tries to explain it better.
"You know I did this for a living, right? At least for a while," he thinks she should know that; they are married for a while now.
"You did it in Brazil; that means you only had to do it in Portuguese. In here," she points to the wall again, "they have to think in a phrase that works in English and French."
He finally sees what she's pointing: the Always Fresh / Toujours Frais Tim Horton's slogans.
It was always like that; she sees everything, she's perpetually a step ahead.
I don't know how she can handle me and still keep smiling, he thinks.
"Oh, that," he's ashamed. "It must be a nightmare."
"How can I help you?"
"Two cold brews, a traditional and a vanilla one," she says.
"Anything else?"
"12 assorted Timbits, please," he asks.
She looks at him, confused.
"That's it?"
"Yes," he answers.
"And how will you pay?"
"Give me your phone," she says.
"Why?" He questions.
"Mine's dead," he gives it to her.
After paying, they go to the waiting line.
"Why do you always have to complicate things?" She asks.
"Huh?"
"I asked for your phone; why did you have to question why I wanted it?"
"I . . . I . . . I don't know; it wasn't on purpose. I just asked; I didn't give it a thought," he tries to defend himself.
He feels cornered, not by the wife but by himself. He knows it's not the first time he has done something like that, and he also knows it's far from the first time she complains. He's cornered by his own fears and insecurities.
"Don't question me at every turn; trust me and do what I ask. Is it too much to ask? It doesn't look like too much to me," she's angry; she's almost crying.
"It wasn't on purpose. You know--"
"You're like that, inquisitive. I can't stand this excuse anymore. Aren't you a writer? Write a better one!"
"I'm s--"
"Don't! Just don't! That's something else I can't stand anymore," she raises her voice a little bit, enough to make him realize that things are spinning out of control. "Everyone gets curious! I want to know why you picked Timbits even though you said you wouldn't, but did I question you in front of everybody? NO! Can you extend me the same courtesy?"
Before he says something, an employee gives them their order.
They take a sip of the Cold Brew.
"I'm sorry," both say at the same time.
"It's hot today," she starts to explain.
"And we're hungry," he finishes.
They take one more sip and eat one Timbits each.
"We change when we're hungry," he states, and she agrees.
Or do we change when we aren't? she sadly thinks.
