Imade it home just before the blizzard took over Barrum, and I had managed to get myself a couple more bottles of wine.
Because, yeah.
That kind of day.
Though when I pulled up to my house, I half-expected to see that my kids were still there, waiting for me. Like maybe their flight had been canceled due to impending weather.
It was a nice hope after my shitty day.
Naturally, I was wrong.
My cold and dark house represented my mood perfectly as I walked up the porch, careful to avoid the snow starting to accumulate. No one opened the door for me and greeted me.
Not that I wanted a husband to do it, because husbands weren’t worth much to me anymore.
Maybe I just needed a butler.
I really needed another couple of days with my kiddos before they went to Florida. I couldn’t believe they didn’t tell me. How’d they even set it up without me figuring it out?
Though trying to be logical, I sort of get why they wouldn’t tell me they were going to Florida. And the last six months or so had been rather nutty around here, between my sisters getting boyfriends.
Fiancés.
Blerg.
It was busy, to say the least. Our little family suddenly burst bigger by 2.5—counting Louie’s partner in the K9 Unit, Axel. And while I haven’t heard anything, I’m sure Summer and Matthew will be having more rugrats soon enough.
I don’t know if they’ll even wait until after the wedding.
I heard the stories about the panini maker.
And wished I hadn’t.
I shook the snow off outside before I came in. The click of the key lock sounded particularly depressing in the cold quiet. I hung up my coat. Tucked away my purse and the salon’s bank in the safe inside the deep coat closet.
I always bring home the salon’s take every day. If I don’t grab it, Mom does. Though usually, it’s me, because she tends to leave early on Saturdays.
Benefits of ownership, I suppose.
Tomorrow, if the weather’s clear and drivable, I’ll go over for Sunday Book Balancing. Mom and I do it every week to double-check the till and make sure that everything is correct.
It gets checked nightly, of course, but we also double check on Sunday.
Why, because it’s the way we’ve always done it.
I should be happy with the routine. Usually, I was.
Today, though the routine seemed mundane.
I sighed as I glanced around my mostly orderly living room.
At least all the glasses were back in the kitchen and not all over the end tables. I wasn’t going to talk about all the extra throw pillows out all over everything.
I swear the twins must grow the things in their rooms, because I have no idea where all the extra pillows come from, but there always seems to be more of them after the kids leave the house.
“I love my kids. I love my kids. I love my kids,” I muttered to myself as I started picking up the extra pillows and straightening up.
I was not a fan of clutter. Knick knacks are not my thing. I like simple, clean lines and empty tabletops and counters.
