The Cocktail Club by Pat Tucker

Author:Pat Tucker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Strebor Books

30

DARBY

“I don’t want no stupid waffles!” Taylor screamed.

If he was gonna have a fit, he’d have to have it alone. I was not in the mood. I walked to the refrigerator and removed the gallon of juice. I wanted sleep, and I didn’t mean the kind of light sleep on the couch either. I wanted to crawl back upstairs and get up under the comforter. I’d get my sleep mask, close the blinds, and sleep until my body was tired of sleep. That was the plan as soon as I cleared the house.

“Boy, you need to hurry up and eat this food.” I moved over to the table and poured orange juice into my son’s cup, and then into a glass near my husband’s plate. What was he doing?

Kevin Jr. ate so fast, I started to tell him to slow down before he choked. But even the sound of my own voice made my head hurt.

“Kevin!” I screamed. “Your breakfast is getting cold! What are you doing?”

I rubbed my temple and prayed for my husband to hurry down. I didn’t know what was worse—the fact that I had to get up early to fix breakfast after a night at happy hour, or the fact that my husband hadn’t come down to eat yet. My biggest goal on Friday mornings was to get everyone out of the door as quickly as possible. The longer they lingered, the greater the chances something would go wrong. I didn’t want anyone to stay at home. I had neither the time nor the energy to look after anybody.

Finally, Kevin rushed in. He snatched one of the waffles from the plate, took three large bites, then rushed over to the stainless steel refrigerator and began to fiddle with his tie. He scrutinized his reflection a couple of times.

I rolled my eyes and prayed he’d hurry.

“C’mon, boys. We need to go,” he barked at the kids.

“Oh, babe, I’m almost out of my body wash and deodorant,” he said to me.

My eyebrows curled downward. Surely, he didn’t expect me to make a mental note of the toiletries he needed. But if I had told him that, it would’ve only slowed them down, so I didn’t say a word.

“I’m serious, Darby. I told you last week, and today I had to mix water in my bottle. It’s as good as gone,” he said.

I nodded and strained not to sigh out loud. I needed to remember to restock his stuff. The last thing I needed was him to fall back into his mix-with-water-to-make-it-stretch habit.

He walked back to the table, snatched two strips of bacon from his plate, and looked at our sons.

“C’mon, fellas. It’s time to roll,” he said.

The boys scrambled from their chairs, grabbed their insulated lunch bags, and followed Kevin out of the door.

“Bye, Mom,” Kevin Jr. said. He was being kind of standoffish, and I still hadn’t figured out the issue with his behavioral problems.

“Love you, Mommy,” Taylor said.

“I’ll call you in a bit,” Kevin added. I wanted to tell him don’t bother.

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