Staunton

Craig and I had a quick visit to Staunton - about 5 hours - before we boarded the Amtrak to head to New York City. Our tour guides, former neighbor Alex and her fiance Nick, led us through the streets of their charming small town. First, we stopped at their apartment. As others cleaned up from our camping weekend, I trudged through the process of printing our Amtrak boarding passes on a computer and a printer that didn't want to cooperate with each other. After everyone finished cleaning up and I was still trudging through the printing process, Craig sat listening to Nick playing the piano, enamored with Nick's self-taught ability.

"Craig, can I borrow your phone?" I asked, hoping I could call the Amtrak people and find out that we wouldn't need a printed ticket. Craig pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to me, barely giving me a glance for fear that he would miss a second of Nick's impressive tinkle across the keys.

After listening to static-filled, jumbled phone music, an Amtrak customer service representative answered the phone.
"Is it possible to board the Amtrak train without a printed boarding pass?" I asked. "I have the confirmation number," I added in a helpful tone.
The Amtrak rep paused as she researched the Staunton station. "This is an unmanned station so you will need to have your boarding pass printed ahead of time. If you don't have a printer, you can use your smartphone."

I don't have a smartphone.

"I have a laptop. Can I present the boarding pass on my laptop?"

The Amtrak rep sounded slightly alarmed that I didn't have a smartphone. Perhaps she was talking with a bum of some sort who would smudge the delightful atmosphere that Amtrak trains provide. Still, she agreed that I could in fact use my laptop to board the train.

I announced the situation and the solution if we couldn't print the boarding pass, pulling Craig's attention away from the piano just long enough to return his phone to his outstretched hand.

Alex found another laptop that she assured me would connect to the printer, if the computer decided to turn on at all. I creaked open the lid and pressed the power button. The computer showed signs of life, just barely. After it installed the hundreds of updates it had missed over the past few years, it was ready to go. Success!

Craig and I got our things together so that we could stop at Nick's gelato shop, The Split Banana, before we headed out of town. We followed Alex and Nick down the hill which led to downtown. When we arrived at The Split Banana, Craig seemed a bit frazzled and started going through his backpack.

"Laura, do you have my cell phone?"
"No, I borrowed it, but I handed it back to you while you listened to Nick on the piano." I added these details to prove to him (and myself) that I really did return the phone and that it wasn't lying on the floor next to one of the laptops with which I had battled.
"Are you sure? I don't remember you handing it back to me. Where did I put it?"
"Of course you don't remember. You were listening intently to Nick. You probably put the cell phone on the piano."
"Why would you let me do that?"
"I didn't want to be responsible for the phone, so I made sure I handed it back to you. I didn't think about what you might do with the phone! It's probably on the piano."

We decided we'd put the phone situation on hold so we could enjoy our gelato. One of the perks of owning a non-smart phone is that it's not a big deal if it gets lost.

But before we noticed, Nick fled out the door and started running up the hill to his and Alex's apartment. Within a few minutes, my phone rang. It was coming from Craig's phone. I answered it.

"Nick, you found the phone! Where was it?"

I listened to his answer and then glanced over at Craig with that look that all wives seem to develop over time. The look that silently says, "Sometimes, I know you better than you know yourself."