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That was when something in me snapped. Like that little glass vial in a glow stick. It was physical, visceral, leaking out a poison that seeped into my every cell.
It could have been overstimulation from all the noises. Or maybe that I’d already spent nearly an hour and a half cooking his meal and then cleaning the entire kitchen, or maybe I was just truly losing it.
Whatever the reason, I snapped.
“Are you really going to leave your dish out?” I sounded like a nagging shrew, but there was no helping it.
Liam peered over his shoulder and scanned the room, as if searching for the ghost who’d spoken to him. “I—what?” He almost laughed.
And who could blame him? Our default had shifted from arguing to ignoring in the last couple of months, so it had been a while since I’d blown up, and when I finally did, it was over a plate.
He looked at the dish and back at me. “It takes two seconds to clean.”
Wrong answer. My blood was boiling, and I was ready to bite his head off.
“Exactly, it takes two seconds, so you could do it.” I jerked my head to the sink.
This time the laugh really did escape him, dry and sarcastic. He looked down at his phone, then back up again. “I’m running late. I just assumed—”
“Of course you did.”
Dallas babbled from his highchair, garnering my attention. Taking in a deep breath, I shuffled to the boys and sat in the seat Liam had vacated. We always swore we wouldn’t argue around them, and I stuck by that.
He sighed heavily, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m gone. I’ll see you guys later. Love you.”
I simply nodded. The response that had always come so readily, so eagerly, was gone.
Liam left, and a deafening silence settled around me. I felt bad about snapping, but I knew that I couldn’t hold myself together like this anymore.
On either side of me, Miles and Dallas were making grabby hands at each other and squealing from their highchairs. I slumped in my seat and took in the room. My focus landed on Liam’s backpack as I did. The backpack that contained his laptop. In my state of rage, I hadn’t noticed it. And he was so desperate to get out of here that he’d left without it.
Maybe I was being ridiculous. I had been cooped up in this house for so long, and I was overwhelmed with the boys, who were into everything and never slowed down. Maybe I just needed a break.
Yeah. A break sounded really, really good. I could run a few errands, breathe on my own for a while, then stop by Liam’s office to drop off the bag, as well as a small apology. A truce.
I turned to the boys. “How about we invite Nana over?”
“Nana!” they yelled in synchronicity.
“You don’t need an actual reason when you want me to watch them. You know that, right?” Mama B strutted into my house, and the first thing she did was pop a lasagna in the oven. “I love spending time with my grandsons. And considering the rate at which Luke’s Star Wars Lego collection is growing and how many hours a day Crew watches Master Chef while arguing with Gordan Ramsey, these may be my only grandkids. Don’t even get me started on Adam and the allergy to good women he’s developed.”
I snorted. “What about Calla?”
“Ah, now she’s our little dreamer. She’ll either travel the world and create a designer line of pants, or she’ll buy a farm in Idaho with her cowboy husband and pop out five kids.”
At the sound of our laughter, the boys came dashing in. “Nana!”
“Well, what do you two think you’re doing looking so big? Not my sweet babies!” She scooped up a boy in each arm—a firm reminder that I needed to ask this lady for a printout of her workout routine—and gave them all the kisses.
“Nana, I wanna eat.” Dallas leaned into her and gave her the world’s most effective puppy dog eyes.
Miles nodded and rubbed his belly.
“I want to eat, I want to eat!” they chanted as she threw her head back and laughed.
It was common knowledge, even among toddlers, that when Mama B was around, it was time to eat.
“Go sit at the table, and I’ll bring you a surprise.” She set them on the floor and smiled at them as they took off for the dining room. “It’s sugar-free. Don’t worry.” She winked and patted my bottom, shooing me toward the back door. “Now, go, go! And give my son a good butt kicking for whatever he did.”
