“Mom!”
I hear my daughter screech my name from across the house. If I don’t make a sound maybe, she’ll think I’m not home. No such luck when she barges her way through my closed office door.
“I need face cream.”
I peel my eyes away from the cursor on my computer screen that’s been dancing in the same spot for the past ten minutes. Damn writer’s block. This book is already taking me longer than I intended. So much longer, in fact, that I’ve had to push the release date back—twice. I know I’m just one of thousands in the indie community, but I don’t write to pay the bills. I write because I love it. In my everyday life, I’m an elementary school teacher at the local Naval base. I’m a civilian teacher who teaches the kids of our enlisted men and women or the officers assigned to the base. Being a teacher on a military base is a highly sought after position, and I’ve been lucky enough to snatch one of the private contracts. This means that I make more money than a teacher who works off the base.
I take a deep breath and ask, “Why do you need face cream?” Doesn’t my daughter understand that I only have a few hours a week to be able to write? Summer vacation is officially over, meaning I have to teach five days a week. That cuts down my writing time, substantially. Doesn’t she realize this fact? She’s such a word blocker.
“Because I just finished watching this YouTuber, and she said that finding the right face cream is like finding the Holy Grail. Like having the fountain of youth sitting in the palm of your hand. I need to get the jump on wrinkles.” The look on her face is one of desperation. She actually believes the crap these social media types are spewing. Oh, how times have changed.
“You’re thirteen, Jenna.”
“I know.” She nods in agreement. Her dark brown hair falls in natural semi-spirals down, past her shoulders. “I’m halfway to middle age.”
“Halfway, huh? So,” I sit back in my plush leather chair, crossing my arms over my chest, “what does that make me?”
“Old.” She sticks her hand out. “But don’t worry, Mom. You look great for your age. Really.”
I have no words.
My lack of response lets her know her time to vacate my office is now. She slowly backs out, taking the doorknob in her hand and pulling the door shut. “Oh!” she shouts, swinging the door open once more just as my gaze returns to the computer. “I almost forgot. I need a ride to the movies tonight. Dad said you’d take me.”
I turn my gaze back to my daughter who is now giving me her best smile. “Did he now? And what is your dad doing that’s so important he can’t take you?”
She shrugs. “He’s in the garage.”
The garage. I’d like to rename it the ‘coward zone.’ The place he goes to escape the realities of life like bills, chores, and kids. He thinks if he stays out of sight then I won’t ask him to do anything, and he’s right. I usually don’t. I’m self-sufficient in most things. However, right now I want—no I need to use my day off to write, and I’m already having a hard enough time getting the words to come.
“Let me go see what’s so important that he can’t run you to the movies.” I get up from my chair and head to the garage with Jenna in tow. Taking a deep breath to relax my already irritated state, I open the garage door and find Heath underneath his four-wheel truck.
“Hey, Heath?” He doesn’t respond, so I roll my eyes and squat down to his level. “Hey!” I say with a little more force.
“What!” he bites back.
“Why can’t you take Jenna? I’m writing, and this is my only free day this week.”
He stops messing with the undercarriage and looks at me. “Figured you weren’t busy, babe.”
“Well, I am. You know I’ve been having a hard time with this book. I’m way past the date I was supposed to have it to my editor. I need to spend this time focusing and finding my groove. Besides you know that school’s back in session so that means even less time I have to write this book.”
I can only catch a few words that he’s saying under his breath and I’m sure ‘taking care of my shit’ were a few of them. “Listen, you’re not the only one under a deadline here. I’ve got three weeks to get this rig in perfect running condition before me and the guys take off.”
“Can’t you take a day off and work on it before you go?”
He sighs. “You know I can’t. Not with the projects I’ve got coming up. I’ll be lucky to actually get to go on this trip with my workload.”
I don’t know anything about his workload because he doesn’t tell me. He assumes I know these things, but I haven’t developed the ability of mind reading.
“Besides, I’m all greasy. It’s easier if you do it.” He goes back to tinkering under the truck, ending our conversation.
With a sigh, I stand and turn towards Jenna. There’s a look of sadness on her face, and it makes me feel guilty for making such a big deal about this. “Yeah, okay, honey. I’ll take you.”
She smiles. “Oh, and Mom?” Her gaze drops to my chest. “Can you put a bra on? I don’t want you scaring my friends because we gotta pick them up on the way.”
I hear Heath laugh at her comment. Asshole. “Sure, honey,” I say through clenched teeth.