Morning one and all and welcome to Friday. And somehow it is now the middle of February as well. Why does February always seem to evaporate so fast? It’s only a few days shorter than other months, especially this year, but somehow it always seems to be missing a week. Nevertheless here we are so timers at the ready and off we go.
Okay I like this. No clue what is going on with the kids but I like the character types and the potential dynamics between the lot of them. So many dangerously explosive emotions and scenarios to play with.
Friday, February 16th: The air smelled like baking bread.
The air smelled like baking bread and his mouth watered. He wondered if he could convince her to part with a loaf before he left. He patted his middle and frowned. “Maybe just a slice.” He corrected. He thought of a slice of fresh bread, butter melting on it. He wondered if she still had a jar of that marmalade, she liked to make each season when the oranges came ripe.
She usually had several jars stored in the pantry. He thought he might be able to get one f those even if she denied him bread.
‘I’d have to keep it hidden from Petra,’ he reminded himself. Sugar was the enemy. ‘Or one of them.’ He reminded himself. He was fairly certain that Petra considered Sugar, Fat, Salt and carbs to be the true four riders of the apocalypse. While he dined out for work a lot and often slipped out for a quick meal on his own, particularly when Petra was on a kale smoothie kick, he hadn’t managed any sweets in a while. Used to his ex-wife’s baking he now found the storebought stuff too sweet, too artificial.
‘I’ll play it by ear,’ he decided. If there was an opportunity to sneak out a jar, he was going to take it. He lifted his hand, hating how alien knocking made him feel. The house had been her grandmothers and was left to her well before the marriage. When the divorce was finalized he was dismayed that he wasn’t going to be able to take it. The house and property would have made a lot of money on today’s market. While his lawyer told him that he could’t get the house, he tried to use the threat of taking t to gain other concessions.
That trick fell flat and that while he sneered at Maggie hiring her cousin as her lawyer, that cousin proved to be highly capable. Not only did his threats fall flat but proof of his affair with Petra was brought out costing him far more than he anticipated.
‘But got the twins,’ he thought. When offered the option to live with the parent of their choice, they chose him over Petra. They wanted nothing to do with their mother. They had always been more his children than hers and it was there that he felt he won. He frowned as he thought about the twins. They were after all why he was here. He reframed his thoughts as he took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
It took a moment but when the door opened he was engulfed in a brad scented wave that nearly made his knees weak. It took him a moment to realize it wasn’t Maggie standing thee but her cousin, the lawyer.
Ten til Midnight 