Once I’ve cleaned up his face, I send him to his bedroom. After trying once again to get him to tell me the truth (he doesn’t), I stop at Cade’s room and ask him for it too. He also refuses to talk, so I leave them in their rooms and make my way out to the lounge room where Meredith, my seven-year-old daughter, is watching the television.
“Are you hungry, baby girl?” I ask. It’s just after 3:00 p.m. and she’s usually looking for a snack by now.
She shakes her head. “No.”
“We’ve got apples and bananas if you change your mind.”
Meredith loves fruit more than any of my other children. She gives me a smile before going back to her show. She’s watched a lot of TV today, so I feel I should find something else for her to do, but I don’t have the energy for that. Leaving her, I walk into the kitchen in search of my phone.
I call King again. This time, he answers.
“What’s up?” he says, sounding distracted.
“Tell me you’re not intentionally ignoring me.” I know I sound needy; that’s because I feel needy where King’s concerned this week. Between the kids, Christmas, and the heat, and the fact he’s been preoccupied with something I’ve no clue about, I need my husband.
“I’m busy, Lily.”
The way he says this like he’s frustrated with me causes my temper to fray a little. “We’re all busy, King,” I snap. “It’s three days before Christmas. All I’m asking for is five minutes of your time to help me sort out our Christmas plans. Plans, mind you, that involve your club.”
“Fuck,” he mutters and I imagine the exact expression I know is on his face right now. After ten years with this man, I know all his expressions and the situations that inspire them. When he’s frustrated with me, his brows pull in and his nostrils flare. They do this when he’s pissed off with others too; the difference when he’s annoyed with me is that his frustration doesn’t reach his eyes like it does with everyone else. With me, his eyes still hold affection. It’s only when we have the kind of fight that makes me try to force him onto the couch at night that his anger touches his eyes. “You know I don’t give a fuck about this shit. Whatever you decide will be good.”
“I will hurt you, King. I swear I will dream up ways to inflict pain when you least expect it if you say that to me again. You might not give a fuck about this shit, but you better give a fuck about me. And if you do, you’ll help me right now because I am slowly losing my sanity over here, and if you don’t help me, you may come home tonight to a wife who refuses to let you near her.”
He exhales a long breath before saying, “I’ve got ten minutes.”
Some days, my husband is smarter than others. Today is one of those days.
I run through my list of things I need him to help me with. One of King’s strengths is his ability to make quick decisions; something I’m not always good at. This is why I need him on this. He doesn’t let me down. He makes all the decisions I haven’t been able to and six minutes later, I’ve got everything worked out in my head and feel like a weight has been lifted.
“See,” I say after he makes the last decision I need him to, “That wasn’t painful, was it?”
“Are we done?”
I ignore his tone. If I don’t, we may end up in one of those “he can sleep on the couch” fights. “With that, yes.”
“What else is there?”
“Your son. You need to have a talk with him tonight.”
I don’t even need to elaborate as to which son I’m referring to; King knows it’s Cade. I’m almost certain it will always be Cade who gives us the most hell. “What’s he done?”
“I think he initiated a fight with Travis today. I found Travis with a gash on his forehead and blood all over his face.” I pause before adding, “He’s too rough, King, and I don’t want this to continue.” I don’t have to say the words “he won’t listen to me.” King knows that when it comes to Cade there are times when he has to step in. Cade respects me when it comes to most things, but this is definitely something that will have to come very strongly from his father.
“I’ll talk to him tonight,” King says.
“The boys are both in their room until they tell me the truth of what happened.”
“Okay, I’ll try to get home early.”
“Thank you,” I say as I release some of the breath my lungs have held hostage today. Honestly, there are just some days I need King more than others and today is one of those days.
We end the call and I make a coffee. I don’t normally drink caffeine after lunch, but it’s going to be a long night and I’m fairly certain I’m going to need it.
King’s POV
I arrive home justafter 7:00 p.m. Later than I’d intended. Later than Lily needed me if the sounds coming from inside the house are anything to go by.
“I’m watching TV!” Cade yells from the back of the house as I step through the front door.
