I blink, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Just tell them,” she emphasizes again.
My mouth opens and closes. Is this a practical joke? “Tell who?”
Mrs. Burke frowns, chastising me. “Don’t act dumb.”
“I honestly have no?—”
“Tell them,” she interrupts me and walks away.
I look down at Noah. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”
Noah shrugs.
What is with the people of Mystic River today? It’s like there’s something in the water. Cranky teachers and horny former hookups out here just slinging their attitudes all over me.
Speaking of which…
Someone has some explaining to do.
Takinganger out on my laundry isn’t the most mature, but it’s productive. And hopefully, I don’t break anything in the process. I thought the dryer door was broken after I slammed it shut, but after careful inspection, I concluded that it would survive. Folding made me angry all over again because there isn’t a way to angrily fold the laundry. The laundry ends up just being another heap of jumbled clothing.
After the PTO meeting, I waited for Noah to be done with school and went home. I explained to him that I wasn’t in a good mood and needed to work through it. My heart broke and dissipated some of my fury when he asked if he had done anything wrong. The last thing I want is for him to feel responsible for my emotions.
But then we got home, and I saw the guys’ motorcycles in their driveway. I told Noah that I needed to be alone for a bit, and he scurried off to do his homework so he could go outside and throw his football.
So here I am, putting away the clean laundry and slamming the dresser drawers because this is finally therapeutic.
Stack of shirts. Open the drawer. Set them down.SLAM!
Pile of leggings. Open the drawer. Set them down.SLAM!
“Raven!”
“Noah!”
My front door opens, and the objects of my sour mood walk right into the blast zone.
Sleep shorts and shirts. Open the drawer. Set them down.SLAM!
Little feet scamper across the hardwood floors downstairs. “You’re here! Are you here to throw my football with me?”
Denim shorts. Open the drawer. Set them down.SLAM!
I can hear the confusion in Griffin’s voice. “Uhh. In a bit, my man. Knox and I are going to check on your mom.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Mom said she wants alone time.”
Bras and panties. Open the drawer. Set them down.SLAM!
I don’t listen to the rest of what they’re saying. The more I think about them, the more I remember Ruby and everything she said.
With no more clothes to put in my dresser, I huff and kick it as if it told me I look fat in my jeans.
“Whoa. What did the dresser do to earn your wrath?” Griffin jokes.
My muscles tremble as a flurry of emotions swirl around my body. “I can’t do this with Noah in the house. I don’t want him to hear.”
