HOV

by Abby Rosmarin

 

            Not only was the old man in the tan sedan driving solo in the HOV lane, but he was going 10 miles over the speed limit.

            If he has been just 5 second earlier, state trooper Jared White wouldn’t have even seen him. His eyes would’ve been cast down to his phone as his screen lit up with Ruth’s text. I had a great time last night. Jared had only looked up, really, to figure out a response, but once he saw the double infraction, he knew he had to do something. He was on the clock, after all.

            The old man didn’t fight it when the blue lights started flashing behind him. He pulled out of the HOV lane and across the highway and onto the right shoulder. Jared shook his head as he got out of his vehicle. The roads weren’t even that congested that morning. There was no need to try to cheat the system.

            “License and registration, please,” Jared said through the driver’s window. The old man handed over both, already in his hand when Jared walked up.

            “You do understand the HOV lane is for 2-plus people in a vehicle, right?” Jared asked as he scanned the documents.

            The man looked over at his passenger seat, looked back, and sighed.

            “I know,” he said dejectedly.

            “Any reason you were driving it this morning, then?”

            The man sighed.

            “It’s a long story,” said the man.

            “I love long stories,” Jared replied.

            The old man pressed his lips together and closed his eyes.

            “Are you married?” the man asked.

            “Divorced,” Jared answered.

            The man gave a weak smile.

            “Well, then, maybe you’ll understand. Maybe not,” he said. “I was married, for 54 years. Margaret, she — she never learned to drive, and so we drove everywhere together — including this highway — all the time.”

            The man paused to look at the passenger seat again.

            “I lost her, just last month,” he added.

            “I’m sorry,” Jared answered.

            The man closed his eyes and nodded.

            “I’m still getting used to her not being around,” he said. “Still waking up and expecting her next to me. I turn to tell her something and remember too late that she’s not there.  This...this highway is the one we took to get to her doctor. It’s all still habit, I guess. Still can’t believe she’s not in the car next to me.”

            Jared nodded, pursing his lips.

            “I’m sorry for your loss,” he replied.

            The man closed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

            “It’s a beautiful thing, to love something so much that you’re lost when it’s gone,” he said. “I can only hope everyone gets a chance to experience that in their lives.”

            Jared said nothing and stared off at the oncoming cars. It had been a slow morning, as if the world around him had been hesitant to get started.

            “Sir, I do need to run your plates. I’ll be right back.”

            “Take your time, son. I’m in no rush.”

            Jared got back into his car and slid a hand over his face. He kept his eyes on his computer screen, not really seeing the information in front of him, assuming the license plate was valid, that everything was all right.

            Jared returned to the man’s sedan and handing him back his papers.

            “I’m giving you a verbal warning, okay?” said Jared. “Please be careful about using the HOV lane. This does need to be reserved for carpool during rush hour. And you were speeding, too. Keep an eye on that.”

            “I know, and I’m sorry, and thank you,” said the old man.

            “You try to have a good day now, okay?” Jared added.

            “Yes, I will, thank you.”

            Jared returned to his car, his trooper lights still flashing as the man drove off. He looked down at his phone again as it lay in his passenger seat. Ruth had sent two more messages, the second one reading, “There’s this local band playing at a coffee shop near me on Friday. Maybe we could go to that.”

            There was something about Ruth. His friend Ben was right to pair the two of them up. Ben knew firsthand just how ugly the divorce had been, how much it wore Jared down. Ben practically shoved him into the date — c’mon man, you need to move on now, start new and all that — and he had good reason to. Ruth was funny and sweet and had connected with him in an instantaneous and disarming way. He liked how he felt when he was in the same room as her. He liked the person he became in her presence. It was a lot to find in a first date, but there it was.

            “It’s a beautiful thing, to love something so much that you’re lost when it’s gone. I can only hope everyone gets a chance to experience that in their lives.”

            He could see the old man sitting in his sedan, staring at his empty passenger seat. So lost without his wife that he was using the HOV lane, forgetting he didn’t have someone beside him anymore. Waking up every morning and feeling that ache.  Mourning in ways that he’ll probably never recover from — that he’ll always feel that grief until he, too, passed.

            To love something so much you’re shattered when it leaves you, betrays you, is gone.  How exactly is that a beautiful thing?

            Jared picked up his phone, opened up his contacts, and deleted Ruth’s number. He kept his lights flashing as he pulled back onto the highway — all the cars respectfully getting out of his way — and blazed down the street.