The Good Wife
The microwave beeped.
Warmed-over instant—she made it earlier, but Kylie spilled the cereal on the floor, Josh couldn’t find something vital (“vital” grew legs and wandered off), the cat threw up and Max stepped in it … a little sugar, little more … were two “littles” still a little?
She sank gratefully into the old recliner.
The hand that brought her coffee to her lips was not shaking.
Her “to do” list waited primly beside her cup—three urgent things added from the morning’s jumbled communications. Pick up Josh’s kids from school, edit Lisa’s presentation (she needed two more options for her committee—they should be really creative) and what was the other?
Something about beeswax … did the cat need taking to the vet?
She was reading the first lesson on Sunday; maybe it would help settle her mind to go over it now. She flipped open her Bible: “A capable wife, who can find? She is far more precious than jewels …” Yeah, right!
She closed her eyes, just for a moment.
Marianne Vespry, Westdale