Cedar Cove Collection

“It sounds like you guys had a nice day.”

“Are we going to decorate the tree tonight?” Allison asked, her expression bored.

“Sure,” Zach said.

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” Rosie answered simultaneously.

Allison glanced from Zach to Rosie.

“I’ve just spent nine hours on my feet,” Rosie said. “The last thing I want to do now is decorate a tree. We can do it tomorrow after church.”

“I can’t,” Allison complained. “The French Club is having their bake sale in the mall, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Rosie rubbed a hand over her eyes. “I’m not supposed to help with that, am I?”

“Yes, Mom…” Their daughter sounded both hurt and provoked.

“Okay, okay.”

“What about dinner?” Zach asked.

They’d already had pizza once that week and KFC another night. Zach realized this was an especially busy time of year, but it seemed important that they have at least one meal a week as a family.

“Who wants what?” Rosie asked.

“Pizza,” Eddie shouted.

“I’m not hungry,” Allison insisted.

Zach frowned.

“I suppose you want meat loaf and mashed potatoes,” Rosie muttered just loudly enough for Zach to hear.

“That’d be nice,” he said, and then added, “for once.”

“Are we going to do the tree or not?” Allison asked, slouching on the sofa next to her mother.

“Apparently not,” Zach said.

“If that’s what your father wants.” Their voices mingled as, again, they spoke at the same time.

Allison stood and headed toward the hallway. “You two work it out and when you’ve decided what you want to do, let me know. I’ll be in my room.”

As if he, too, sensed that a fight was brewing, Eddie disappeared into his bedroom immediately afterward.

The silence after they left was deafening.

“You might’ve told me you planned to be gone all day,” Zach said, unable to hold back his resentment.

“I did,” Rosie flared.

“When?”

“Monday night, remember?”

“If I remembered, I wouldn’t be bringing it up now, would I?”

Rosie propelled herself off the sofa and marched into the kitchen. “I don’t want to argue about it.”

“Good, because I don’t want to argue, either. But I’m sick of this, Rosie.”

“What is it with you?” she demanded, whirling around. “We can’t talk anymore.”

“All I said was that I don’t remember you telling me you’d be gone all day.”

“And I said—”

“I know what you said.” He was fast losing his temper. “You might’ve reminded me.”

“Why, so I could listen to you complain about it?”

Ah, so that was it. She saw him as complaining. The finger had been pointed and it was aimed in his direction.

“I’m making up a to-do list for you,” he snapped, grabbing a pen and paper. “First, we need groceries.”

“You were at the store. You might’ve picked up more than milk and bread, you know.”

“I work forty hours a week.”

“And I don’t?” she shouted.

“Look around you and answer that question for yourself. If you are employed, exactly who are you working for? Not your family. Not me. Not our children. A Christmas Bazaar is more important than a Saturday with your family. A bake sale at the mall outweighs decorating a Christmas tree.”

Rosie slammed a pound of frozen hamburger into the microwave. “Don’t paint yourself as a martyr in this marriage, Zachary Cox. If you think you’re so perfect, then you can start doing more to help around here. Who said it was my responsibility to buy the groceries? You seem to think that because I don’t have a nine-to-five job, you can rule my days. I have a life, too, you know.”

“Don’t yell!” Eddie screamed. “Don’t yell anymore!” He stood in the kitchen entrance, tears in his eyes, his hands covering his ears.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry,” Rosie cried, sounding close to weeping herself. She bent down to hug their son and cast an accusing glare at Zach. “Now look what you’ve done!”

“Me?” Funny how everything got turned around so that he was the one at fault.

Zach waited until after dinner—a pot of chili thrown together in about twenty minutes, but still an improvement over recent meals—before approaching his wife again. “It’s clear we have several issues that need to be addressed,” he began as she watched a rerun of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

“Several issues,” she repeated. “You sound like an attorney.”

“So, I sound like an attorney. Let’s just get through the holidays. The kids are hurting.”

“So am I, Zach.”