“Oh, I’m thinking dance camp. Danielle especially wants to go. Cassandra has always been more athletic, so she’d like something more intense, but I think she’ll enjoy dance camp all the same.”
That makes Maris suddenly perk up. With a big smile, she says, “Then it’s settled! I’ll tell Michael that Tiffanie has to go to dance camp. She’ll be thrilled when she finds out your girls will be attending too.”
Before I can say another word, the three girls come charging into the dining room with their sparkly pink and purple backpacks ready to leave for the sleepover. They all chatter at the same time, so nobody can understand a word they’re saying.
Finally, I raise my voice and announce, “Girls, girls, if you’re ready and Tiffanie’s mother says she’s ready to go, then you can start your big night out.”
Immediately, all three girls train their attention on Maris, so she quickly stands up and hands me her glass of soda. “I’m ready. You ladies are going to have the best time. We’re having pizza delivered, and we’ve got all the streaming packages, so you’ll have hundreds of movies to choose from.”
That makes the three of them scream and jump up and down. God bless Maris because I don’t think I could handle a night filled with that this weekend after today.
“Okay, girls, come over here and give me a hug before you get started on this night of pizza and movies!” I say, opening my arms in preparation for my daughters to say goodbye.
Danielle hurries over and not only gives me a hug but a kiss too. “Will you miss us tonight, Mom? Are you and Dad going out to eat since we’ll be at Tiffanie’s house?”
I push her dark hair off her face and kiss her forehead. “We’ll see. You just have a good time, and I’ll be over to get you before lunch tomorrow.”
My older daughter seems disinterested in hugging or kissing me, but she comes over and gives me one of her half-hearted hugs before turning away as she says, “It’s only one night, Mom. We aren’t going away for weeks.”
Sometimes I wonder if teen angst has arrived early with Cassandra. Whatever it is, she can be a bit surly lately. She always has taken after her father more than me.
“Well, I’ll miss you anyway.”
Maris herds them out of the dining room, and with a final wave, takes them all out of the house, leaving me in perfect silence. I let out a heavy sigh, happy to finally have some peace and quiet.
Looking around, I estimate I have about an hour’s worth of cleaning up to do after eight, very excitable girls spent hours eating, drinking, and swimming. I glance up at the clock in the dining room and see it’s nearly four o’clock. Connor’s been gone for over two hours. Something tells me he isn’t planning on coming back anytime soon since he’s likely thinking our daughters and all their friends are still here.
Resentment starts to fill me at the very thought that he’s avoiding being here because that would mean he had to be a part of the girls’ big day. Is it really that much hassle to support me in my efforts to make sure the girls are popular? For years, I’ve sat through every single practice for every activity they’ve ever done.Gymnastics, cheerleading, art classes, you name it, they’ve done it and I’ve been right there, front and center so the coaches and organizers knew the girls had my support. Yet, he’s never had to be at anything. He never even attended the year-end parties or parents’ nights.
But, oh God help all of us if the girls weren’t popular because Connor would say that reflects badly on him at work. Maybe he should try helping me sometimes then.
“The hell with him,” I mumble under my breath as I toss the plastic bowls in the sink. “If he comes home and the place is a mess, maybe he can do something to clean it up.”
With a head full of steam, I march upstairs to grab my purse and then with irritation filling me, I hurry outside to my car. My husband thinks he’s the only one who gets to have an afternoon away. Well, he’s wrong, and he’s about to find out how much he’s mistaken.
Ten minutes later, I park the car in a spot near the front door to the coffee shop. It’ll be nice to enjoy a leisurely cup of coffee and a scone, heated with butter, of course, just like Kelsey told me about. Maybe she’s here today. It might be nice to have her join me again.
I just hope I don’t run into any of the mothers from gymnastics. I don’t think I could pull off my happy and contented wife routine right now.
When I enter the shop, I don’t see my new friend, unfortunately. That’s okay, though. A nice relaxing cup of coffee by myself is good too.
“Hi, Mrs. Jennings,” the young blond lady behind the counter says with a big grin. “What can I get for you today?”
I don’t know why, but hearing her refer to me that way bothers me. She’s never heard me tell her my first name, so naturally she can’t call me by that, yet the name she called me makes me want to let her know who I am.
“Please, call me Jamie. Mrs. Jennings sounds so formal.”
For a moment or two, she looks surprised, like very few people bother to give them their name. Then she smiles again and says, “Okay, Jamie. How are you today? What can I get you?”
That little business straightened out, I look up at the board above her head that lists all the types of coffee the shop offers and say, “I think I’ll splurge today and get an iced latte with two pumps of caramel, thank you. And a blueberry scone heated with butter.”
She takes my money and gets to work assembling my order as I look around the shop for what table I want. One in the very back near the bookcase filled with books nobody’s ever read looks perfect. I take my seat and wait for my order to be ready, happy I made this decision to forgo all that cleaning up after the girls until later.
Or maybe Connor will come back and see it needs to be done, so he’ll take care of that business.
The thought barely enters my head before I roll my eyes. Of course, he won’t clean up. I can’t remember a single occasion when my husband ever did anything like that. He doesn’t even put away his clean clothes when I leave them ready for him in a basket on his side of the bed.
Would it be so hard to pitch in once in a while?
