“I’M BACK!” MY HUSBAND, LYNN, ANnounced, shuffling into the kitchen that afternoon last September with his arms full of groceries.
“Sooner than I expected,” I said, without looking up from my computer screen. I’d finally hit my stride paying some bills and catching up on e-mail, and here he was, back home already!
“No hero’s welcome?” he asked, unloading the groceries on the counter right next to where I was working.
“Sorry. Just trying to get some things done.”
“I won’t interrupt,” he promised, putting away the cans and boxes in the kitchen cabinets. Then, as always, he left the doors wide open.
“Could you please close the cupboard doors?” I could hear the edge in my voice.
“Sure,” Lynn said, not looking at me as he banged the doors shut. Then he began loading the refrigerator at a glacial pace, making me crazy that he was leaving the fridge door open for so long, letting all the cold air out. What was it with him and doors?
I forced myself to hold my tongue and flipped my laptop closed. “I’ll go in the other room to finish up what I’m doing.”
“Sure,” he said again, his back still turned to me.
This story is from the February 2020 edition of Guideposts.
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This story is from the February 2020 edition of Guideposts.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
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