What a day it’s been. I miss my bed.

James is waiting for me… I can’t just crawl into bed the moment I’m home.

Alright, get it together, Maeve. You’re tough. The shopping is done. All that’s left is prepping and cooking dinner, doing the load of laundry that should have been done yesterday, washing the dishes, mopping the floor, getting a shower, and finally getting into bed. Actually sleeping.

Yeah… That’ll be… easy to get done.

“I’m home.”

An empty living room greeted me. I set the groceries down in the kitchen so I could search with lighter hands. The bathroom and my bedroom were equally empty.

That’s good right? He’s getting fresh air. I can handle all the chores. I was doing them before he came, and I can still do them when he’s out.

Not quite the same anymore, is it? Half the time when I come home, he has music playing. Now it’s so quiet.

Colcannon is an easy enough dish. I’ll put that together quickly enough and start the laundry. Mopping… should wait until later. No point in mopping while I’m in and out of the kitchen.

I wonder where he could be? I wish he had a phone so I could text him about dinner.

Let it be. This is a good thing. He’s out exploring.

Still… dinner is almost ready. I would hate for it to get cold. Seems like he only wants to eat when I’m eating too. He never snacks when I’m home unless I’m grabbing something and offering some. What time is…

Stop checking the time. I’ll wait for him. I’m not very hungry anyway. Everything can stay covered in the oven until he gets home. While I wait, I can wash these dishes. At least there aren’t many to wash tonight.

Laundry is… not ready to dry? Oh, come on. Don’t get stuck mid-cycle again. Work!

Alright, what did I… Right. Lift the lid, close again, and…

Washing… Refilling? It was already-! 

Fine. Fine. This is fine. Just totally restart the wash cycle. What do I care? At least it’s working.

What is that smell? It smells like – No!

I shoved open the oven door. Reached in and nearly ruined my hands before I realized I had no mitts on. The toast was charred. Inedible. I completely forgot about it and now it’s ruined. How are we gonna have colcannon without toast? I could put more on if I hadn’t used the last of the bread. 

I opened the cabinets to start gathering the ingredients for a fresh loaf. Sighed as the timer dinged on my phone for the sausages. Once they were out of the oven, I resumed my search. None of what I needed were in their usual places though.

Alright. Where is the baking soda? I could swear I…

There it is. And the baking powder. Salt, flour, sugar, the dry measuring cups and… the spoons? How did these all end up in this far cabinet? Did James put them over here?

He must have. I didn’t do it, so being the only other person in the house he must have. Why?

Maybe he was trying to help out. I do bake pretty frequently. Seems every other week I’m making at least bread. Now all my baking ingredients are together in this cabinet for easy grabbing. He even moved all the canned goods I had in here to the pantry. I’ll have to thank him when he gets home.

I should have done this yesterday. I knew we were running low on bread. Should have set up the dough and baked yesterday when I had the day off.

What time is it?

The clock on my phone read almost 8:00.

That’s not… I mean there have been a few evenings when he stayed out till around 8. He’ll be home soon. This will have time to rise while I wait. I just have to finish kneading the dough before I can cover it.

Alright. I think I’ll get that shower now that that’s done. The hot water will fix the aches and pains. It has to.

A hot soak would be really nice. Maybe I should fill a bath instead?

No. If I get in the tub, I’ll be in there half an hour minimum. Stick to a hot shower, I scolded myself as I grabbed a nightgown from the bedroom.

The water was slow to heat. It felt nice once it reached the temperature I wanted though. Until soap got in my eye somehow that is. My eyes were still burning when I finally turned the water off.

I decided to put on a film when James still hadn’t come back half an hour later. The sound of the dryer filled up the quiet moments. It was comforting as I mopped the kitchen.

At 9:30 I talked myself out of getting into the car to check the nearby streets while my stomach growled. He’s never been this late before. What if something happened to him and I’m sitting here arguing with myself wasting time?

Sometime after 10, when the bread was cooling, my hunger decided to become nausea. Exhaustion weighed down my limbs. That’s when the front door cracked open.

James crept in silently. Ducked his head when he caught my gaze. He removed the plugs from his ears. Sat himself opposite of me on the floor, gaze still averted. He was moving to twist his arms behind his back when my yawn made him pause.

“You’re back.”

Hesitantly, he nodded. His hands came to rest awkwardly on his knees.

“Are you alright?” I asked, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to wake myself up. That’s when I noticed his split lip. “What happened?”

His eyes widened at the carpet. They began to glisten with unshed tears. His posture went unnaturally rigid.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I reassured gently.

My movement to slide off the couch caused him to flinch. The movement was subtle though, like he was trying desperately not to bolt. I spread my arms wide in a welcoming gesture.

“Would you like a hug? Is alright. I’m glad you made it home safe. I’m not mad.”

He let out a hiss of pain as his teeth scrapped over his split lip. His head dropped further to avoid my gaze, chin resting on his chest now. I let my hands drop to rest in my lap at the anxious movement.

“Are you hungry?”

It took a few minutes, but when I didn’t move, he glanced up at me. I smiled.

“So am I. Ready for dinner?”

His head jerked up then, eyes blown wide in shock. I chuckled as I set to work reattaching my leg. 

“You didn’t think I would eat without you, did you?”

At that he recoiled, blue eyes wary and distrustful. I tried to salvage the moment.

“Just teasing, James. Is alright. Not mad, remember?”

I got no answer, verbal or gestural. He didn’t take the hand I offered to help him up either.

“Let’s have dinner. I made something new tonight. Want to try it?” I asked quietly.

My stomach growled loudly. His followed. I held back my laughter.

“Let’s go eat. I made a fresh loaf of bread earlier to go with everything. You like when the bread is fresh, yeah?”

He gave the kitchen a longing look. His stomach growled again, and his hands twitched, almost lifting enough to shield it from view before he caught himself.

“It’s so fresh that it’s probably only just now cool enough to slice. Guess who gets the first?”

His lips parted. If not for his stomach growling again, maybe he would have spoken. Instead, he rushed to shield his stomach, retreating back a step with a cautious look thrown my way.

A new wave of nausea started up. I pressed a hand to my own stomach in sympathy.

“The answer is you,” I said.

He blinked back more unshed tears. Accidentally sucked his split lip back under his teeth for a moment and grimaced.

“First aid kit is in the bathroom cabinet. If you need help, let me know. I’ll be reheating our dinner, alright?”

I felt his gaze as I made my way to the kitchen. The pans in the oven were still warm, but the food would need to be microwaved. While his was reheating, I set to carving thick slices of bread for our meals.

James stayed on the edge of the kitchen once everything was ready. I lifted our plates and jerked my chin toward our water bottles on the counter. He understood.

“We’ll eat wherever you’re most comfortable.”

The crinkling of the bottles between his hands harshly cut across the air. I ignored the weight of the steaming plates as he looked repeatedly between the stools at the bar and the couch.

Tentatively, he left the kitchen. An anxious gaze met mine once he was settled on the floor with his back against the couch.

“Perfect.”