Am I hearing things?

“Did you hear that?” I asked my husband.

“No,” he said.

“Listen carefully," I said. "It’s quick”

He paused, “I hear a train.”

“It’s closer. It’s a very high note. The cardinals are back.”

“I think you’re hearing things,” was his response.

“Maybe,” I answered.

Like when my daughter told me the school field trip buses were taking us to and from the site last week, but they were only taking us there; we had to find our own ride home. Maybe I was hearing things.

Or when the washing machine salesman said the scratch-and-dent I bought was fully warrantied, but then when it broke that first week, said it wasn’t. Maybe I was hearing things.

And when my best friend said we’d never run out of things to talk about, but then stopped talking with me altogether. Maybe I was hearing things.

My husband said, “I love you.”

“What?” I asked. “Did you say something?”