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And this Corona virus shit was one of them.
“Fine,” I grumbled. “But make sure you have them include two forty-four-ounce margaritas. And no, neither one of those are for you.” I paused. “And make sure you get extra chips.”
With that, I walked to the living room and parked my ass in my recliner.
When my wife came in twenty minutes later and sat in my lap, I wasn’t in any better of a mood.
“Chips and alcohol should be here in half an hour.” She straddled my lap. “Now, what should we do until then?”
I growled at her.
Book:Counter to my Intelligence
CHAPTER 8
Well, well, well if it isn’t the bridge I said I’d cross when I came to it.
-Kettle’s secret thoughts
KETTLE
I walked into the house exhausted as hell, barely putting one foot in front of the other after the hellacious shift I’d just had at work.
The moment I breached the door, I immediately saw my wife working away in the middle of the living room, with what looked like hundreds of papers strewn all around her. They were on the couch, the coffee table, my recliner, and the fireplace.
“What’s going on?” I asked curiously.
She barely spared me a glance when she waved my way.
“Getting some paperwork ready for my kiddos. I’m having to get them a couple weeks’ worth of worksheets for them to do at home. Since we’re in such a rural area, a lot of my students don’t have any access to wi-fi. So they’re having to send these packets home for them.” She sighed. “And I’m struggling with what to send. Is it too much? Not enough? Will they be able to understand what I’m trying to teach them?”
I dropped my keys onto the table and shoved my hands into my pockets, looking at my woman.
We’d been married for years, and I’d never seen her look so sad.
Hell, these last two weeks had been so tough for her.
Not just because of all the extra work she was now doing, but because she missed her kids.
“You talk to all of them today?” I asked, leaning my shoulder against the wall beside me.
She swiped a stray tear from her cheek.
“It’s April,” she whispered brokenly.
I knew what she was going to say before she said it.
“This is the golden time,” she continued. “These kids are my kids. They might not be mine by birth, but I’ve spent the entire year getting to know them. We’d just gotten back on track after the Christmas holidays. We were back from Spring Break, and this is seriously the most fun time of the year. We’ve become a family over the last half a year. We missed the Walk-a-thon that we raised money for all year. The boys won’t get to play baseball. The girls won’t have softball. All the track meets were canceled. Prom is no more. The seniors will miss walking across the stage to get their high school diploma.” She swiped another tear. “My heart is literally breaking right now, Kettle.”
I swallowed hard at her show of emotion. It broke my heart to see her cry.
“And my kids are struggling at home right now,” she continued. “They’re not getting to go out and spend time with their friends. They’re stuck at home, some of them in terrible home life situations.” She angrily wiped her face. “I have one boy who only eats when he’s at school.”
My stomach pitched at that.
“I just want to see my kids,” she whispered. “This sucks.”
I carefully stepped around her papers, being sure not to mess even one up, and hunkered down right in front of her.
