I Told You So

A Fergus Johnson story of gender relations

You have to understand that discretion is often about what you choose to not say.

Fergus and his wife, Loraine, were on vacation in southern Arizona. It was more than a vacation, actually. They had decided that it was time to move to a warmer climate for him and a place kinder to allergies for her. So, they were also keeping their eyes open for climates and communities where they might like to live.

Fergus and Loraine enjoyed each other’s company and enjoyed exploring new places together. They noticed things and pointed them out to each other. They worked well together and they, especially, traveled well together. Sometimes, Loraine’s heart would swell with affection and she would spontaneously offer: “I love you.” More often than not, Fergus would be caught off-guard and look like a deer in headlights. Truth be told, getting that reaction might actually have been part of her motivation for saying it.

 This was the nature of how their love had come to be. Fergus and Loraine knew each other very well. They loved each other. They (mostly) accepted and tolerated each other’s faults. Loraine frequently told Fergus that she loved him. Fergus, a quiet, introspective man, disliked feeling that returning an “I love you too” made his reply seem like a compulsory addendum. When pressed, he insisted that he showed his love, most times, by the genuine affection that he demonstrated in the considerable time, attention and service that he devoted to their life together.

In this, they were not unlike many couples. Most women tend to talk about how they are feeling far more than their men do. And, they can produce the words out of their heads a few fractions of a second faster. For guys, it can be hard to compete with that quantitative and temporal advantage. And so, it becomes easier for men to listen and respond (more than take the lead) in mixed-gender conversations. At least, that’s what Fergus, after careful and deliberate thought, had explained to Loraine. Loraine hadn’t entirely bought the argument. She didn’t feel that this excused her man from, at least, continuing to make an effort.

There was also the matter of criticism. Fergus had discovered that “constructive criticism” was not as helpful as he had first imagined. Loraine had taken it personally, grown to resent it and had become determined to give as good as she got. And, being better at verbalizing and expressing emotions (as Fergus had previously pointed out) she easily made use of her unfair advantage. Their relationship had been heading into serious trouble.

One day, after suffering through some more of Fergus’ unsolicited advice, Loraine had told him to stop the car and pull over. She turned to him and said “I love you.” Fergus caught his breath. “I love you” didn’t always mean “I love you.” Sometimes is could also mean any number of other things including “Thank you,” “I’m sorry,” “Not tonight,” or “You need to shut up now.” This time it was probably that last one.

Loraine then made a small but stunningly memorable speech: “You know, I’ve read that relationships are fragile and must be nurtured carefully and deliberately. I’ve also read that it takes saying fifteen positive things to compensate for every negative, critical thing. I think you owe me fifteen nice things.”

Fergus had offered an apology and taken her unsolicited advice to heart. He hadn’t said much for several days while he internalized the thought. In due time, he realized that discretion is often about what you choose to not say. Loraine noticed that he was making a serious effort to be less critical and more pleasant. This had made her very happy and she had suddenly said, “I love you.” This took Fergus by surprise and she could almost see his mental gears rotating one full turn before he answered back, “I love you too.”

On this day, they had visited Bisbee and decided to drive down to Naco, a very small town on the Mexican border, before doubling back and heading to Benson by way of Tombstone.