broke
the tense silence. “How do you know that God doesn’t mean to provide for you
through us?”
Trish arranged
the dish towel to where it hung perfectly from the oven handle, ignoring his
question. “I have to go. I’m meeting Andy to put the finishing touches on his
temporary office.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Yes. See you
later.” She hurried out the French doors at the back of the house before he
reduced her to a screaming two-year-old.
The spring
morning already held warmth, the air dry and dusty. Little Bo lounged beneath a
small grove of oaks and petted Steve’s golden lab.
“Come on, honey.
We have to go into town. Mama has work to do.”
“I want to stay
here with Papaw.”
“No.” Her son was
her responsibility, and no one else’s. “You need to come with me.”
“Why?” His chin
held a defiant tilt.
“Because I said
so.” How she’d hated those words as a child, and had even sworn she’d never use
them. “Come on.”
“Please, Mom,
it’s Saturday.” His voice took on a whine. “There won’t be anything to do.”
“You can take
some books and puzzles. Now let’s go.” She checked her watch. The last thing
she needed was to be late to a meeting with her only client. “Bo, now.” She
struggled to keep her anger in check. “We don’t want to keep Andy waiting.”
“Andy?” His head
shot up, his eyes hopeful. “Andy will be there?”
“Yes.”
He sprinted
toward their house, only a few steps away, but concealed by live oaks. “Gotta
get my glove and ball.”
Trish stared at
his retreating back and frowned. She should be glad he’d agreed to come with
her so easily. Instead it left an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She followed
after her son, entered the kitchen from the garage, and moved to the sink to
rinse out the coffee pot. At least the house was clean. Another sleepless night
had provided plenty of time for the housework.
The sound of
Little Bo digging through his toy box echoed down the hallway. She flipped the
handle on the faucet. It clattered into the sink, and a spray of water shot
into the air, drenching her clothes and leaving puddles on the counter and tile
floor. Her cry of surprise brought Bo hustling into the room.
“Whoa, a gusher!
What happened?”
Trish licked
water from her lips and put a hand over the fountain, but only managed to spray
herself more. Tears formed and slid down her cheeks. At least they weren’t
visible with all the water on her face.
Bo dissolved into
giggles. It had been so long since he’d laughed full out with nothing to hold
him back. On a whim, she allowed the water to shoot between her fingers and
sprayed him. He squealed and laughed even harder.
Her clothes
dripped as she hurried to the linen closet down the hall and grabbed a stack of
towels. She placed one on top of the geyser. In a matter of seconds it turned
from dusty gray to slate. As she moved to grab another towel, the microwave
clock glared the time. Andy.
With one hand on
the soaked towels, she reached for her cell phone and dialed his number.
“Hey, where are
you?” His voice held an exasperated edge.
“I’m sorry I’m
late, but we’ve had a minor crisis.”
“What’s wrong?”
His tone took on immediate concern.
Trish grabbed
another towel and plopped it on top. “The kitchen faucet broke and is shooting
water everywhere. I’m going to have to call a plumber.” The thought subdued
her. How much would that cost?
“Don’t call yet.
I’m on my way. Look under the sink. There should be water shut-off valves.”
She opened the
cabinet doors and peered under. Two eye-shaped valves stared back. “Yeah, I see
them.”
“Turn them both
off and stay put. I’ll be there ASAP.” The phone clicked, and the line went
dead.
Trish followed
his instructions, and miraculously, the geyser stopped. She turned to survey
the damage. Water everywhere. “Here, Bo.” She threw a dry towel his way. “Use
this to dry yourself off, then
the tense silence. “How do you know that God doesn’t mean to provide for you
through us?”
Trish arranged
the dish towel to where it hung perfectly from the oven handle, ignoring his
question. “I have to go. I’m meeting Andy to put the finishing touches on his
temporary office.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Yes. See you
later.” She hurried out the French doors at the back of the house before he
reduced her to a screaming two-year-old.
The spring
morning already held warmth, the air dry and dusty. Little Bo lounged beneath a
small grove of oaks and petted Steve’s golden lab.
“Come on, honey.
We have to go into town. Mama has work to do.”
“I want to stay
here with Papaw.”
“No.” Her son was
her responsibility, and no one else’s. “You need to come with me.”
“Why?” His chin
held a defiant tilt.
“Because I said
so.” How she’d hated those words as a child, and had even sworn she’d never use
them. “Come on.”
“Please, Mom,
it’s Saturday.” His voice took on a whine. “There won’t be anything to do.”
“You can take
some books and puzzles. Now let’s go.” She checked her watch. The last thing
she needed was to be late to a meeting with her only client. “Bo, now.” She
struggled to keep her anger in check. “We don’t want to keep Andy waiting.”
“Andy?” His head
shot up, his eyes hopeful. “Andy will be there?”
“Yes.”
He sprinted
toward their house, only a few steps away, but concealed by live oaks. “Gotta
get my glove and ball.”
Trish stared at
his retreating back and frowned. She should be glad he’d agreed to come with
her so easily. Instead it left an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She followed
after her son, entered the kitchen from the garage, and moved to the sink to
rinse out the coffee pot. At least the house was clean. Another sleepless night
had provided plenty of time for the housework.
The sound of
Little Bo digging through his toy box echoed down the hallway. She flipped the
handle on the faucet. It clattered into the sink, and a spray of water shot
into the air, drenching her clothes and leaving puddles on the counter and tile
floor. Her cry of surprise brought Bo hustling into the room.
“Whoa, a gusher!
What happened?”
Trish licked
water from her lips and put a hand over the fountain, but only managed to spray
herself more. Tears formed and slid down her cheeks. At least they weren’t
visible with all the water on her face.
Bo dissolved into
giggles. It had been so long since he’d laughed full out with nothing to hold
him back. On a whim, she allowed the water to shoot between her fingers and
sprayed him. He squealed and laughed even harder.
Her clothes
dripped as she hurried to the linen closet down the hall and grabbed a stack of
towels. She placed one on top of the geyser. In a matter of seconds it turned
from dusty gray to slate. As she moved to grab another towel, the microwave
clock glared the time. Andy.
With one hand on
the soaked towels, she reached for her cell phone and dialed his number.
“Hey, where are
you?” His voice held an exasperated edge.
“I’m sorry I’m
late, but we’ve had a minor crisis.”
“What’s wrong?”
His tone took on immediate concern.
Trish grabbed
another towel and plopped it on top. “The kitchen faucet broke and is shooting
water everywhere. I’m going to have to call a plumber.” The thought subdued
her. How much would that cost?
“Don’t call yet.
I’m on my way. Look under the sink. There should be water shut-off valves.”
She opened the
cabinet doors and peered under. Two eye-shaped valves stared back. “Yeah, I see
them.”
“Turn them both
off and stay put. I’ll be there ASAP.” The phone clicked, and the line went
dead.
Trish followed
his instructions, and miraculously, the geyser stopped. She turned to survey
the damage. Water everywhere. “Here, Bo.” She threw a dry towel his way. “Use
this to dry yourself off, then
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