Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Six
Friday.
I know I’m not sticking to my routine. I tell her I’ve just had a bad week. I don’t want to be a scrooge today. I’ll just keep it to myself.
Toilets cleaned. Floor mopped. Tables wiped down. Morning sun through the windows. All my thoughts a running a tape.
The audacity.
No more excuses. I did it. I know it can be done. I know they can do it too.
Something about the look on her face this week.
He looks so tall and lean in the all black. I can see in his eyes how much he wishes he could play. There’s always next week.
17-14. What. a. game.
They won it for their coach. You can just tell. That was all about playing for someone they love.
I’m doing the right thing.
Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Five
What day is it?
Why are we trying to dry clothes at 7:20 when we have to leave at 7:50?
He asks me if I’m running late. I tell him that some days, getting the kids out of the shower and out of the house takes longer than you’d like.
Despite the amount of positive self-talk, sometimes there is no getting around your true feelings.
At least I have this to focus on.
Dark office all day. I wonder where he is.
I make a weekly attendance chart and a copy of the practice plan for her. This is kind of like having an assistant.
I think she’s trying to call my bluff.
His practice isn’t over yet. I decide to take a jog to pass the time. The construction equipment obstructs my view of the fluorescent sunset. I pass a house on my left; its windows are uncovered, and the lights are on. I try not to stare. I am going to feel this in the morning.
Or, maybe she didn’t quit.
Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Four
The 1st of November.
Maybe today is the day he will return.
Losing track of time. And now there’s a backpack to pick up. And treats to buy.
Alone again but not quiet. Chainsaws and hammers and muffled murmurs from below.
There are so many other more important things. So many other things on which I would rather spend my energy.
Early release.
He’s still there. That’s a good sign.
Already so much whistle-blowing.
It’s not a punishment. It’s just life.
A difficult conversation is easy when you’re speaking from your truth.
Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Three
Only Tuesday.
Oh yes, it’s Halloween.
Another solo day in the office. Playing catch-up. At least it’s warm in here.
Messages like that said en masse do not inspire anything but fear. Maybe, one day, they will be better about this.
It feels as though something strange is about to happen but maybe I’m reading too much into it.
We decide on Mexican. There is a spot right in front that I can pull into. No parallel parking. Camarones. Rice and beans. I eat the entire plate.
The leaves of a dawn redwood.
It is a good group, even if a little small. In fact, maybe a better group than in past years. Lucky number three.
One is home sick. One doesn’t have a costume. I drive into town sit and drink wine and stay warm while tracking them on their phones. Maybe Halloween isn’t so bad after all.
“You better hide your candy. And hide it well. No. Don’t give any to your brother. He’s sick and the sugar will just keep him sick.”
Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & Forty-Two
Monday, Monday, Monday.
Decaf in the French press, plus frothy vanilla oat milk.
Six hundred words.
I put on my mask and start to strip the bed, spray the pillows and mattress with Lysol, put on fresh everything, and throw the old stuff in the wash. I make him take another test just to be sure. Still positive.
She is having trouble finding the vein.
Insurance. But I think we both understand one another now. Please just send this referral to the other cardiologist.
Nervous, so nervous.
Seventeen total. It feels like a good amount, the right amount.
Maybe my math is off.
You can make the hard decision today, or make a hard decision tomorrow.