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He sat on the stool, picked up his fork, and dug in. It didn’t take him long to clean his plate.
“It was great, Mom. As usual.” He stood, took his plate and glass to the sink, and rinsed them.
“I’ll put them in the dishwasher. You go get a shower.” Joanna Flynn smiled. “You need it.”
Liam grinned. “I know. I appreciate dinner. I’ll head home.”
“You will stay here tonight. You’re too tired to even walk through the barn.”
“Mom—”
“Don’t argue with your mother, son. You know you won’t win. You can leave from here in the morning. It’s not like it’s your first time staying here instead of going home. Son, your ass is dragging. Get a shower and go to bed.”
“Yes, sir.” He kissed his mother’s cheek, slapped his dad on the shoulder, and headed upstairs.
Once inside his old room, he entered the bathroom, stripped, and stepped into the shower stall. He placed his hands on the wall under the spray and watched the day’s dirt and grime circle the drain before disappearing. He was so tired; he wasn’t sure he could stand much longer.
After washing, he shut the water off, opened the stall door, and picked up a towel. He ran it over his hair, down his body, and hung it over the door.
Entering the bedroom, he removed clean underwear from the dresser, pulled them on, and crawled under the sheets. He never set an alarm. He got up at the same time every day. His internal clock never let him down.
The following morning, the sun shining through the window awoke him.
“What the fuck?” He threw the sheet off, dressed quickly, and ran down the stairs.
He stopped when he saw his parents drinking coffee at the bar.
“Would you like a cup of coffee, son?” his father asked.
“No. Why didn’t you get me up?” He strode to where his hat hung, sat on the bench, and tugged on his boots.
“You needed to sleep, Liam.”
“Mom, I have too much to do to sleep late.”
“I told Jerry this morning that you’d be late. He’s the foreman, Liam. He knows his job.”
“Not the point, Dad.” Liam stood, took the flannel shirt off the peg, and pulled it on. Then he opened the back door and stepped onto the porch.
“Liam.”
“Yes, ma’am?” He turned to look at his mother.
“Stop rushing. There’s still work that needs to be done.”
Liam sighed. “Yes, ma’am, but you know it runs a certain way.”
“One day isn’t going to throw it all off. Relax. Please.”
“I will, Mom. You two have a nice day. Love you both.”
“We love you, Liam,” his mother said as he closed the door.
He jogged down the steps, strode across the yard, and entered the barn.
“Liam.”
“Jerry. I’m sorry.”
