"You OK?" I asked a minute later, after we reconnected.
He laid his two-wheeled carbon fiber anniversary gift on the ground and glared at it. "THAT bike is made for a fitter person than me!" he spewed.
"Stupid bike!" I said.
"I'm SAG'n back." He said it as though it wasn't already obvious.
He ignored the sarcasm. "You go on as long as you want. I'll meet you at the truck when you're done."
And I did. I rode on through my favorite part of the Sunday ride — an excruciating climb up an endless hill in Morgan County park and the corresponding downhill run, an exhilarating wind-in-your-face, fast-as-you-can-go-without-a-motor ride.
And then I was done.
Later we talked about the day as we drove toward Elwood.
"Sorry you were stuck in the truck while I rode," I said.
Seth gave me a look of disbelief. "THERESA, are you serious? I was off the bike. My troubles were over!"
We sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Seth spoke again.
"I have a confession to make," he said.
"Yes?" I prodded. This was bound to be really interesting.
"The SAG driver asked me what the problem was, why I was SAG'ing back."
"Yes? And what did you tell him?"
"I told him my asthma was acting up."
I couldn't believe my ears. "You told him your asthma was acting up?" I repeated. Seth has periodic heartburn, cellulite, painful feet, and thinning hair. He does not have asthma.
"Yes. And he asked me if I had an inhaler and I said 'Yeah, I have an inhaler.' But he knew about asthma medications. So I just kept agreeing with the stuff he said."