He cut me off so severely, I barely had time to react. One more inch and my v6 engine would’ve sat crushed in the back of his truck.
I was livid.
I followed him.
Through the left at the next light, up to Pennsylvania Avenue and right at the mall.
He pulled into the parking lot of the Starbucks. I pulled in next to him.
I took several deep breaths before I got out of the car.
“Excuse me, sir!” I called.
Wavering, the short, heavy man turned.
“I don’t know if you realized it, but you nearly ran me off the road and caused an accident back there!” I was tempted to raise my voice, but I’m sure it came out pretty level.
“Oh.” He looked down. “I am so sorry. I didn’t even notice.”
There was a pause.
“So…is everything okay?” I ventured, half-joking really.
“No. No…I just needed a break. I have a lot on my mind right now.”
“It’s my wife. She’s dying of breast cancer…it’s just a matter of days.”
I felt my soul being tugged. My insides dipped well below my knees.
“God. I’m sorry to hear about that…do you have any family? Kids?”
“No,” he half-smiled, nodding his head. “It’s just the two of us. She’s got hospice care at the house and her sister is here now. I just needed a break and came out for some coffee.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I offered my prayers for them and gave him a hug. While I apologized for confronting him, I also reminded him that he still needed to be here…for his wife.
“No more driving crazy,” I chided. He smiled.
We went our ways.
I still think about him, though. How he’s doing and if he’s okay. The first time I told anyone about this was the first time I thought…he could’ve been the crazy one.