Fighting nonplus

Last night, I picked up Matthew from Midway airport, where he was returning from another business trip. He wasn’t gone long, but I missed him. He takes up space in my life in a good way, and I know I can always count on him to balance me. But he had been gone, and I felt off kilter.

I couldn’t wait to pick him up from Midway, but we started up right where we had left off, arguing over something silly and meaningless. Actually, we argued over meaning.

“So I got to the office in Connecticut,” he said, “and the manager was surprised that I was nonplussed by New York traffic.”

“Wait. Say that again,” I told him.

“I was nonplussed by the New York traffic, and the manager was surprised that it didn’t bother me.”

“Nonplussed?” I asked, with a judgmental tone. "That doesn't make sense. You just said two different things."

“Yeah it makes sense.”

“I don’t think you know what nonplussed means,” I said in a testy voice.

“Yeah, it means unfazed.”

“No it doesn’t!” I escalated the disagreement by raising my voice and getting angrier. “It means the opposite of unfazed; it means fazed. It means you were stymied by New York traffic.”

“It means unfazed,” Matthew said in the voice he uses when I am being difficult.

“It does not.”

“Yes it does.”

“I’d like to remind you that I have TWO degrees in English,” I informed.

“Well I have a Ph.D.”

“So! You’re still wrong!”

We simmered in silence, until I said, “We can settle this with the dictionary at home.”

“OK,” he agreed, without saying, “but you’re still wrong,” but I bet he was thinking it.

I drove, silently affronted, and then we got over the whole definition disagreement. We picked up with our “I missed you” and “how was your trip, what happened, and what did you see?”

Then I totally forgot the definition of “nonplussed” incident and was just glad to have him home, back, safe in our tiny apartment. I was happy just to have him with me again, and I went about my normal routine of cooking dinner and watching the Pussycat Dolls reality TV competition.

Out of the blue, Matthew said, “Huh, you were right.”

“What sweetie?” I asked.

“You were right about ‘nonplussed.’”

So big of him to admit. I kissed his forehead and said, “I told you so,” in the sweetest, loving way I could.

God I missed that guy. God I love being right. It was lonely without the fighting.