Page 69 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
There’s no missing her massive, irritated sigh.
She stomps out to the kitchen with a piece of paper. “This is unfair. I was at schoolallday and now I have to do more work? I want to play with my Barbies.”
“Well, let’s get that done and after you can play with your Barbies.”
“Fine,” she groans. “You look terrible, Mom.”
A weak laugh leaves me. “Thanks, Roe.” I ruffle her hair. “I’m sick.”
She purses her lips and looks me up and down. “I can tell.”
Spencer shakes his head and tosses the paper bags in my trashcan. “If you need to lay down, it’s okay. I’ll handle homework with her and get the soup made.”
I finish my toast and wash my hands. “I should work on my paper.”
I didn’t feel well enough to make any progress last night, so now I’m behind.
“All right. Well get to it.” He shoos me away. “Roe and I can handle this.”
“Yeah, Mom. We can handle this,” Roe chimes in.
I raise my hands up in surrender. I’ve been ganged up on. “I’m going.”
I settle in my bed with my laptop, bringing up the paper I was working on and finding only one lonely paragraph written. I closed the bedroom door, but despite that I still hear music come on and smile to myself when Spencer and Roe sing along.
This is good for her—having her dad around in our space. Even if it’s strange for me.
I tune out their kitchen shenanigans and get to work. Before I know it, over an hour has passed and I’ve made more progressthan I expected. I guess miracles happen when you’re not interrupted every five-seconds.
I save my document and close the computer. I need a break, and the smell of the soup is getting to me.
Poking my head out of the room, I spot Spencer and Monroe still in the kitchen. She stands on her stepstool helping to stir the pot.
“And this will make Mommy feel better?” she asks.
Mommy.
She uses that so rarely with me anymore that every time I hear it, I cherish it.
“It might,” he says. “I hope so at least.” He presses his hand gently to the center of her back. “Stir a little more there. The veggies are wanting to stick to the side.”
Monroe does as she’s told and beams up at him with pride at herself. “I like helping you, Daddy.”
“And I love your help.”
I step back into my room and close the door as softly as I can. My breath comes in tiny gasps.
This is why I can’t have Spencer around. I don’t like seeing thewhat ifsright in front of me. The reminder thatI’mthe one that gave up on us. He never did.
“Get yourself together,” I mutter. I tuck my hair behind my ears and open the door once again. “Something smells delicious,” I call out.
“We made you soup!” Monroe hops off her stool and runs straight for me, slamming into my legs. I grunt from the force of it. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much.” And it’s true. I feel loads better than I did this morning.
“This is almost ready. Roe, get your cute tush back over here and grab the bowls.”
Her feet slap against the floor as she runs to help.
