Andante, Andante: Please Don't Let Me Down

Chapter Six

"Mom, have you seen my volleyball uniform?"

"No, Sutton. Check your dirty clothes again," I reply without truly comprehending the words tumbling from my mouth as I pull out the chicken from the oven.

"The dirty clothes? Mom, I need it tomorrow!"

"Well I don't know what to tell you Sutton. How many times do I have to remind you guys to bring down your laundry?" I angrily scold and toss the dinner on top of the stove while Noah's whining irks my headache even further. "Henry! Do you have to tease your brother? Just stop, okay!"

"I'm just messing around," Henry shoves Noah producing a yelp from my youngest that pierces my temples and forces my eyes to slam shut from the agony. "Don't be such a baby, Noah!"

"I'm not a baby!" He screams back at my oldest and slams his palms against Henry's chest will all his might, just barely pushing my oldest. Henry chuckles in response and extends his arm, palming Noah's little head and keeping his younger brother at bay while Noah tries ruthlessly to squirm closer, his fists swinging with rage. "It's not fair that you're bigger than me!"

"Dammit Henry!" I kick the oven shut and spin around on my heels. "Both of you knock it off!" I bellow finally grasping my kids' attention and stilling their actions. "What is the matter with you two? Go wash your hands before dinner!"

"Mom, I still can't find my uniform."

"And whose fault is that Sutton? It's your responsibility, find it!" I snap and turn my attention back toward our dinner.

I glance at my phone on the counter and note that it's six thirty, and I can't postpone dinner any longer. I press the small circle that lights up my phone and frown when I discover no new messages.

There was a time when Regina would be late for dinner and she would call, explaining thoroughly what she needed to do while I listened and told her it was no problem at all. I would feed the children, then would come their routine baths before bed and I would end up tucking them in by myself. After so many years of that, the phone call was long forgotten and I would receive a text message instead saying, 'I'll be late'. I would reply a simple, 'okay' and resume my normal routine. Now, I'm noticing, I don't even receive a text anymore and if I want to know how late she will be, then I have to text her.

"Mom, do you want me to set the table?" Harper shyly questions, approaching me from the side to ensure she doesn't startle me as I was lost in thought.

"Please," I whimper, trying my hardest to suppress a frown that's tugging at the corners of my mouth.

After my daughter sets the table and I plate everyone's dinner, we all finally sit down to eat. I attempt to engage with my children, asking how each of their day's went, but after that I'm far too exhausted to even think of anything else to say. Not to mention the pounding in my head that refuses to give me a damn break no matter how many aspirin I consume.

Just as we are finishing up with dinner, the front door opens with the loud clink of Regina's keys clashing against the table. I groan inwardly, a reflex action from being so furious with her for not having the decency to shoot me a text.

My wife enters the dining room and greets our children, each one receiving a kiss upon their heads while I fake my best smile. All four of our children are buzzing with energy, each one trying to win Regina's attention with a 'cool' story that happened at school today.

"Your dinner is on the stove," I mumble, receiving a simple nod in return as my wife leaves the room to retrieve her plate.

Regina sits down with her dinner and immediately begins answering emails on her phone, never taking a moment to actually eat her food. After five minutes of the children chatting and Regina so lost in her phone, I stand up and clear my plate.