Piggly-Wiggly and Don said we don’t have another job for a couple of days, but we got that new strip mall. That should cover this. When can they start?” “I don’t know. They didn’t say,” she


replied. “What do you mean, you don’t


know? I asked you to do one simple thing. I knew I should have just done it myself.” She wanted to defend herself. She


wanted to say she wanted to be sure he was willing to pay that amount of money. That he had not told her when he wanted them to start. What had happened to her? Why did she listen to this? He threw down his work gloves and


stomped into the kitchen to get another beer. “Stew! How many times in the week do we have to eat out of this damned crock pot? Guess I don’t rate a real home cooked meal, huh?” Margaret ladled the


stew on his plate, buttered his biscuit, and gingerly placed his plate on the table. She then fixed her own plate and sat quietly in her seat. He rattled on about work, the other construction guys, and his boss. She tried to listen, but the statement that it would be several days before he went back to work echoed in her head. She cleaned the kitchen, washed the


dishes, and threw away the leftovers. Ed hated leftovers. “Damn it! You’re throwing away perfectly good food! No wonder we don’t have any money!” She handed him another beer. Maybe he would fall asleep watching television tonight. Maybe it would be soon. She was relieved the next morning


8


when a phone call distracted him. They could start on the barbeque pit right away. Ed could supervise. He wouldn’t be in the house with her. Throughout the day Margaret could


hear male voices though she was careful to stay out of sight. The back door would open, the refrigerator would open and close, then the back door would close again. The banter became louder and more raucous.


When the voices stopped, Margaret


felt the muscles in her neck tighten. Nausea almost overwhelmed her when she heard Ed yelling for her to bring him a beer. She ran to the fridge and grabbed and opened the beer. “’Bout damn time!” Ed growled while leaning over the railing to inspect the freshly poured concrete. The next morning


Margaret got up early to meet with Lois. She could start back at the bank next week. She went out for breakfast, and then got a manicure. After she pulled Ed’s truck into the driveway, she walked around to the deck. “It’s a lovely day isn’t it?” she heard herself saying aloud. “I am going back to work.” Inside, she stretched out on the sofa and pulled a book from her


bag. She read right through dinner. On Friday the men in the flannel


shirts returned. She watched nervously as they laid the brick and mounted the cooking racks in the new barbeque pit. Finally they finished and gave her the bill. She let out a deep sigh when she saw the van pull away from the house. That afternoon, Ed’s boss called.


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