She turned and started out the door to the porch, but her father stopped them. ‘Where are you two going?’ he demanded. ‘I thought we would go ...o the Shakespeare Room,’ Jim answered. Herb grunted again and Jim noted that it was the third time he had done so since he’d arrived. ‘Not too late,’ he ordered them, ‘no later than twelve.’ ‘Well, I was…’ Jim started to say. ‘Any later and Hildy’s mother won’t get any sleep.’ Hildy and Jim descended down the small set of stairs onto the lawn and. . bread ... muffins? Whatever it was, it’s burned to hell and another waste of the groceries I just bought. Walking into the kitchen, I’m greeted by a pile of dishes in the sink. Plates, cups, roasting tins, and the obvious baking pans soaking with burn marks. And there’s my husband sitting at the table, eating a bowl of Lucky Charms. Sometimes it’s like I married a fucking child. With the stress of coming home to this and being bombarded with instructions and meetings all day today, I’m about. More

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