Ideal by Michael Dell The project came in on schedule. Jonathan would probably receive a bonus. It wouldn't be his first. He was the company's top man. Twelve years earlier he had walked in off the street with no experience, landing the job through the kindness of a benevolent employer who knew a friend of a friend, only to steadily rise through the ranks on the strength of his work ethic and tireless pursuit of perfection. He had reasons to work hard. Three of them. Jonathan's journey home was a peaceful one. He was still getting used to the new car. Breaking in new cars had become somewhat of an annual occurrence. Reliable transportation was a necessity, what with the forty-minute drive to and from work each day and Susan's fondness for vacations. Jonathan still longed for the days of his old blue Chevy. It was his first car. He was sure he'd have it his entire life. Susan never liked it. He remembered how she used to insist on driving everywhere when they first started dating. She hated that car. Traffic was light. He was making good time. Jonathan could make the trip blindfolded. It was the same roads, the same streets, the same lights, day after day after day. During one of his commutes, Jonathan figured he had made the usual trek to and from work 4,564 times. That was almost three years ago. Ever since, despite his best efforts to the contrary, his subconscious had continued to clock his travels. It was usually when he exited the turnpike that the number would pop into his head. Today was 5,874. He turned up the radio. Jonathan couldn't help but take notice of the car in front of him. The first three letters of the license plate looked familiar. AHF. He was sure he had seen the car before. Was it this morning? Was it yesterday? Maybe the day before? A glint of light from his rear view mirror caught his eye. It was a tan minivan. He had seen plenty of tan minivans over the years, nothing odd about that. Nor did he find anything unusual about the green SUV in the lane beside him. The radio couldn't get loud enough. Jonathan and Susan had been living in their house almost eight years now. They bought it shortly after Audrey was born. It was only a few minutes away from their first apartment together, but it seemed like entering a whole new world at the time. Jonathan always looked forward to arriving home from work, coasting down the final stretch of residential pavement and turning ever so gently into their spacious two-car, paved driveway. There was a feeling of accomplishment in surviving another day. A feeling he had experienced 1,951 times since signing the mortgage. The walkway to the front door was flanked by rows of daffodils and lilies. Trees and shrubs of varying complexity accented the house in ways that were often featured in magazines. The grass was always kept meticulously well groomed. Susan found great pride in her victory over the neighbors in a one- sided contest for household supremacy. She made sure their home was a gem among stones. No one passing 19 Meadow Lane could argue otherwise. There was no call of arrival when Jonathan opened the front door. He always came home at this time. The sound of the lock was trumpet enough. He dropped his briefcase next to the door and began loosening his tie. He could hear Susan in the kitchen. "Hello." Her hands were busy in the preparation of dinner. "We're having grilled chicken, baked potatoes, and asparagus." "Sounds good," confirmed Jonathan. He gave his wife a kiss on the cheek, being careful not to disrupt her movements. "How was your day?" "Okay. Yours?" "The usual." "The light in the upstairs hall burned out." "I'll get it after dinner." "And remember it's garbage night." "How could I forget?" Jonathan removed his tie. "I'm gonna go change." "Tell the kids dinner will be ready in five minutes," called Susan as Jonathan climbed the stairs. No reply was needed. Audrey's door was open. Jonathan found his daughter lying on her bed doing homework. He watched her a moment before speaking. "Hi, honey." The little girl's face lit up at the sight of her father. She placed her pencil in the middle of her workbook and hopped off the bed to meet him. Jonathan knelt down and gave her a hug. "Did you have a good day at school?" "Uh huh." "That's good. Do you need any help with your homework?" "No, it's easy." "Dinner's almost ready. How about going down to help your mother with the table?" "Okay," smiled Audrey. "That's my girl." Jonathan gave her a kiss on the forehead. "I'll be down as soon as I change my clothes." "Okay, daddy." Johnny's door was closed. Jonathan knocked twice and waited for the "Yeah?" before opening. His son was dutifully studying the statistics of baseball cards. He appeared to have the starting lineup of the Boston Red Sox laid out on his bed exactly how they would take the field at Fenway Park. "Dinner's almost ready." "Okay," answered Johnny, never taking his eyes from the cards. "How was school?" Jonathan knew he'd be asking the same question at roughly the same time of day for at least the next 10 years. "Fine." "Think you can go help your sister with the table?" "Okay." Johnny finished memorizing the card he was holding and set off on his mission. Jonathan rubbed his head as he passed. "Thanks, buddy. I'll be right down." Jonathan and Susan's bedroom was at the end of the hall. She decorated it herself. Jonathan had gotten used to it. He opened his closet and placed his tie on the little rack that held a variety of silken neckwear. There were 23 all told in the rotation. Next up was a blue paisley number to be worn with tan slacks and a white shirt. He hung the selected garments on the outside of the closet door so as to save Susan any unnecessary noise in the mornings. The dress shirt and slacks he had been wearing were discarded in a pile at the foot of the bed, replaced by a pair of loose fitting jeans, that weren't as loose as they used to be, and a charcoal gray pullover. As he was selecting his casual wear, Jonathan studied the wedding photo that was a fixture of their shared dresser. He looked at the picture each and every time he changed his clothes after work. He knew he'd see it again tomorrow. He gathered his dirty clothes and dropped them in the hamper. Susan would do the laundry Sunday night. She did the laundry every Sunday night. Dinner was excellent. Susan was a great cook. Johnny didn't talk much. Audrey made up the difference, sharing freely the details of her day at school. Audrey loved school. She must have gotten it from her mother. Johnny and Audrey excused themselves and returned to their rooms. Jonathan helped Susan clear the table. "Great dinner, honey," commended Jonathan, kissing his wife once more on the cheek. "Thank you, darling," returned Susan. "It's always such a pleasure to cook for you." They shared a smile at the sarcasm. The remaining scraps of food were pushed into a waiting bag of garbage. "New bags?" asked Jonathan. "Yeah, they're easier to tie." "Nice." Dark green bags with red drawstrings. "Can I close it up?" "Yeah, go ahead. That should be everything. The other two bags are in the garage." "Okay." The other two bags were always in the garage. Except this time they had red drawstrings that were easy to tie. He stepped into the warm evening air and took a deep breath. It was almost summer. The bags were carried to the curb in one trip. Jonathan, untangling his right wrist from the last of the red, turned and was struck by the beauty of his life. The lights were on in his children's rooms. He could almost see Susan still busying herself in the kitchen; her love for him as strong as the day they wed. The first stars were beginning to appear in the dusky sky above the house. It was a marvelous sight. His home. His children. His wife. He would have stood there all night if he could. But that wasn't possible. He had to finish a report for work. Johnny might need help with his math. The light in the upstairs hall needed changing. Maybe he'd have more time tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the one after that.