The dishwasher is running. Dinner is only half-cooked.
I should be in the kitchen handwashing the sink full, and scrubbing counters down.
There’s a load of laundry that needs to be folded.
swap rewash the laundry that’s been in the washer for far too long.
Trucks zoom across the living room and hit the wall.
The boys are being too loud.
I should ask them to calm down, be gentler, use an inside voice.
Instead, I step over that pile of books, Cade’s blankets, and the plastic animals that litter the floor.
I crawl next to my husband in his chair.
He kisses my forehead and wraps an arm around me.
I ask him about his day.
My head finds his shoulder and my eyes close.
I tell him about the funny things Cade said today.
We talk about what vegetable I should cook with the chicken for dinner.
I lace my fingers into his. I find his ring and spin it.
He hugs me tighter and we linger…There.
I can touch him, and see him, and I fold his laundry.
I bicker because he marched into the house with muddy boots.
But. There’s boots. Those boots are back in the middle of the floor and…
I don’t care about the mud. Truly.
My eyes remain closed and I listen to his voice.
I remember what it was like to clutch a phone to my ear…
I remember tracing seam that runs down the side of the phone.
I’d trace it with my finger until my finger went numb.
My finger is numb now. I open my eyes and look… His ring. The line in his ring, I found it.
I kiss his cheek.
I pull myself away.
Dinner needs to be cooked.
Bubba can help set the table, I think, as I pull four plates from the cabinet.