They were 12 hours into their road trip when he said, “Here’s the game. I’ll give you a title and you say if it’s a romance novel or a true crime.”
She put down her Cheezies and murmured, “Humm,” which he assumed was a yes.
“I’ll start then,” he said and immediately blurted, “Sleep, My Little Darling.”
“ Oh, I don’t know..romance?” she said.
“Nope!” he exclaimed bouncing in his seat. “True crime! You go!”
“Um, I don’t think I know any titles of either,” she complained.
“Just try!” he said.
“Uh, maybe A Highlander…”
“Romance!” he shouted.
“You didn’t let me finish,” she said with a sulk.
“Well Highlanders don’t kill anyone except for in that movie, and that’s not true crime,” he said.
She looked out the window and counted cows, trees, fence-posts, dead deer.
“There’s a deer on the road!” she cried.
He braked so hard that the car swung around 45 degrees and stopped just short of hitting the deer. They both breathed heavily through their mouths and gripped the car with their fingertips.
“Stranger in My Bed,” she said at last.
He gave her a funny look and guessed, “Romance?”
“No,” she said solemnly, “Both.”
