My domain has been under the husband’s care for an entire day and I begin to imagine the scene that will welcome me at home; the house in a complete mess, clothes changed a hundred times lying around, awaiting their turn to be dumped in the laundry basket, the towel drying on the bed, newspapers flying around in the drawing room, and the kitchen — MY kitchen — a war zone!
What did he cook for lunch? I wonder, remembering his words, “Don’t you worry about my meals, darling. You go, enjoy your time with the girls!”
All the joy that I amassed during those precious moments seems to be retreating in the shadows, as the mound of chores awaiting me begins appearing in front of my eyes like an apparition, sucking the wind out of my lungs.
I take in a deep breath and steady myself as I ring the doorbell, announcing my arrival, when the door flies open and I am hit by an overpowering aroma of freshly baked cake, made by the husband for his wife of 15 years; the loving smile on his face tells me to shut up and forgive him for forgetting the date…once again!
[Lillie McFerrin Writes] Five Sentence Fiction – Fresh