Belated

A sudden flick of the switch amid the darkness brought immediate illumination to the kitchen. Morning sun had yet to emerge as Mary glanced through the opposite window across the room. She walked toward the outdated Mr. Coffee and rummaged through the cabinets for two mugs. Such was the beginning to her morning ritual. After thirty years, she could practically perform the act unconsciously. 

“Mary!” came a shout from the hall. “Where’re my socks? I left them right by the bed, so I’m sure you moved them. I need them. And it’s freezing in here. Makes my joints scream.” 

“Check your drawer for a clean pair,” Mary replied as she punched down the toaster’s handle and headed to the refrigerator. Under her breath, she calmly recited the list of items needed to set the table. “Butter, milk, jam…” her thought trailed off with a clamor at the doorway.

“Did you get my coffee started?”

“Yes dear, the pot should be finished brewing in a few minutes.”

“And don’t forget…”

“I won’t burn your toast. Now just come in and sit down.”

Larry shuffled to the table, grimacing as he settled into his seat. “Always achy. God I hate being old. Must be a weather change coming cause my joints are killing me.”

Mary heard the sudden click from the toaster as it shot the finished toast from within. “Just jam and butter, honey?”

“Hmm,” mumbled Larry as he reached over to the previous days newspaper. “Where’s today’s paper? It should be here by now.”

“I haven’t had time to get it yet. I haven’t even had time to get any of my stuff ready. I’m trying to get your breakfast and coffee done.” Her retort came with a note of annoyance, but it didn’t spur an answer from Larry who continued to rifle through the old paper.

After placing the toast and coffee beside her husband, Mary walked to the front door where she found the day’s paper. The thin roll told her there would be little news. A Wednesday in rural Nebraska didn’t afford much drama or scandal anyway. 

“Here,” she said as she tossed it on the table. “Special delivery.”

No thank you came from Larry as he made an audible crunch into his toast.

It’s not that this sequence of events differed from any other morning. Today, however, Mary felt her teeth grinding in annoyance. To calm herself, she began making her coffee and a bowl of Raisin Bran.

“Crop prices are up, and Robert Dalnick’s son was arrested after a collision while driving under the influence. He always was a bit of a derelict if you ask me. Didn’t Tad…”

He stopped mid sentence. You could have cut the air with the butter knife at the table. Mary had nearly dropped the milk she’d been pouring over her cereal. 

“Well at least Bill Dryer will be able to sell his beans for a better profit.” Larry tried to change the topic, which for the moment seemed to settle the kitchen’s atmosphere.

Mary gave a sign, grabbed the bowl and mug, and walked to sit opposite her husband. She stirred around her cereal and sipped on her coffee. Larry continued to read in silence. Staring down, she knew the rest of her breakfast would continue as usual. Quiet contemplation, no conversation or recognition from her partner, the status quo. 

Another crunch and an accompanying slurp broke the silence, and Larry’s page turn brought up another poorly placed comment. “You didn’t get me a napkin.”

“You have legs, Larry.” Mary felt a sudden wave of triumph as she uttered this. Spurred by her courage, she quickly follow with, “get it yourself”. 

Larry slapped the papers down on the table, causing Mary’s cereal to tremble within the bowl as she peered down to avoid his eyes. 

“I told you already that I’m in pain today.”

“You’re always in pain! Every day you moan and groan about it.”

“I can’t help it if my pain is constant. And it makes things worse that my own wife won’t help me get a napkin just to clean up some damn toast crumbs.”

“Won’t help?!? For years I’ve helped! I’ve made your food, I’ve washed the clothes, I’ve tried to make you comfortable with little more than the occasional grunt or nod. But what do I get instead? Critiques and criticisms.”

“Mary, I’ve made sure this house is stable. I would think you could give me just a little respect for at least that. I make sure you’re taken care of and all you do is make things difficult.”

“Is that right!?!” She got up and look directly at her husband, her eyes welling with tears. As she did so, she felt a wave of intense shock. Her husbands eye met her, not with anger but with intense sadness. He too had tears welling. “What do you have to cry about? More of your pain-induced martyrdom?” The comment stung even her as is emerged from her lips. 

“I forgot…” Larry softly uttered as subtle drops flowed down his cheeks. “I didn’t even think…”

“Forgot what? You mean the thank you I deserved for getting your shit ready for the umpteenth time?”

“It was his birthday. It was his birthday, and I only remembered after I said his name. He never calls, but I guess that’s a bit backwards since we should call him.”

Mary’s heart seemed to plunge to her toes in disgust. Disgust not for the mention of Tad or his infrequent calls. No, she too felt the blow of guilt as she silently admitted that she had forgotten. She failed to remember Tad’s birthday just like Larry. 

“Do you think he’ll ring today? Maybe he’ll think we slipped up?”

“Larry,” Mary almost whispered trying to compose herself following her harsh outburst earlier, “Tad hasn’t called for years.”

“But he’ll be thirty. That’s a momentous event in a man’s life, right?” His voice called for some semblance of affirmation. Mary didn’t know how to respond truthfully without crushing Larry’s torn spirit. 

“I suppose he might,” she lied. She knew Tad had no intention of reaching out to them. The cuts were far too deep, a festering wound that had never really healed.

“I can’t believe I forgot…I’m a terrible father.” He began to sob, and this tore at Mary who now felt like a devil amid her husband’s obvious internal hell.

“It’s alright, Larry.” Mary got up from her seat and walked to Larry’s side. It had been some time since she’d seen him cry. Many years in fact. Perhaps the very day it happened. She hesitated, unsure of her action to do what, in her heart, she knew was right. 

Crouching a bit, she wrapped her arms around him. She felt his torso trembling with each sob, and she too began to free her withheld tears. The site mimicked that exact day ten years prior. The day they’d kicked Tad out of the house.

The seconds became minutes as they remained entangled in a shared expression of misery. Why had their knee-jerk reaction, what they deemed to be right, now become a decade-long mistake? How could something so right to them at the time now be eroding the foundation of what was initially a happy family?

A ring came from the other room. The phone’s call cut through air like a trumpet’s blast. “Could it be?” they both thought in utter shock. Larry bolted upright from his slouched position as Mary tore to the other room.

“Hello?!? Hello?!? Tad???” Mary held the receiver so tightly it nearly slipped to the floor, slick from her sweaty palms. She thought how she would apologize for all the comments made, the assumptions and the judgements of years past. She didn’t care how he chose to live his life anymore. If he could find it in himself to come back, to love them after all that had been said, then she knew she would throw out open arms to embrace him. 

Larry waited, now at the edge of his seat. In the midst of the ringing, he had tipped over his coffee which now sopped through the periodical splayed before him. He and Mary both forgot their earlier squabble. His heart beat harshly, almost audible amid his wife’s sudden silence. He yearned for some confirmation, that Tad had called and he’d forgiven them, that he still loved them. Perhaps, Larry thought, his call may even heal them. Perhaps it could bring the two back together and fix their fumbling relationship.

From the phone, a soft voice finally broke the couple’s tension. “Mom? Is that you?”