Me: Tell him he can borrow Harry’s for a little while.
Two minutes later:
Harry: Emmett is NOT borrowing my phone. He locked me out the last time he did.
Harry: Also, can Alex come over?
Harry: Why aren’t you answering???
Thirteen minutes later:
Me: Seriously? I’m a vet. I’m at work. Why do you think I’m not answering?
Me: Alex who?
Harry: Alex Valencia. Luc said he could pick him up at lunch.
Me: No.
Harry: Why not?!
Me: It’s just not a good idea.
Harry: It’s a great idea! We could practice kicks and blocks in the back yard. Emmett can watch. Mattie can watch. Everybody wins!
Me: Not happening. No friends over while I’m not home.
Mattie: Why won’t you let Alex come over???
Emmett (on Mattie’s phone): Yeah??? Why not???
And so on.
By noon, I have a headache. I vow to myself that the next holiday break, I’ll either have to take off work on the days the kids are home or sign them up for some camps or classes so they have something to do while I’m gone.
I treat a Calico cat with a UTI, a King Charles Spaniel with a yeast infection in her ears, and prescribe Metacam for a ten-year-old boxer with arthritis in his hip.
By five o’clock, my throat burns when I swallow, and my ears are ringing.
When I get home, Luc’s truck is still in the driveway, but Sam and Donner’s vehicles are gone. I go in through the kitchen, expecting to find Luc cleaning up from the day’s work, but the space is empty.
Last week, the crew started taking out the wall between the kitchen and the dining room. It was a messy job, so they taped up plastic sheeting to seal off the kitchen from the living room and the dining room from the foyer. Today, the sheeting is down, and the only sign the wall ever existed is the raw outline on the ceiling, sidewalls, and floor.
I’d half expected the whole house to topple down and the room I’m sleeping in to come crashing into our old dining room, but Luc explained the wall wasn’t load-bearing. When I asked how he knew, he gave me a dimpled smile and said he knew because it ran parallel with the floorboards. He showed me where the joists were and how Mom had used a wall beam when she knocked out part of the wall between the kitchen and the living room all those years ago because that wallwasload bearing.
I guess if the house didn’t fall down from what Mom and Dad did back then, what Luc is doing now won’t bring it down around our ears either. And I’m starting to be able to see what the finished product will look like, especially now that I have a clear view all the way out the bay windows from the spot where our kitchen table used to be.
What I don’t see are my siblings or Luc.
“Hey guys?” I call, moving into the living room. It’s empty, and the TV is off, which is almost unbelievable.
No answer.
My guess is they’ve all gone upstairs to collectively sulk in their rooms since I haven’t given in to any of their demands. But then where’s Luc?
I’m about to head toward the stairs when I hear muffled laughter and Clarence’s bark.
I turn, and through the French doors, I see all four of them, Harry, Mattie, EmmettandLuc in the yard, playing soccer. Clarence is trying to join in, running circles around them and barking. Twilight is all but gone, but the floodlights from the porch illuminate their play, and no one notices when I step outside. Not even Clarence.
