Fiction
The only mood Charles ever seemed to be in was an angry and bitter mood. He was still mad at the man who shot Ty, and he would always be angry and carry that anger into all eternity. He was mad because he couldn't work and support his family for a while, thanks to that man breaking his ribs. The man was not alive anymore, so Charles could never tell him how much he hurt him and the people he loved. He just continued to let little things bother him, like Angie's minor mistakes in cooking and housework and Jeremiah's noise.
Charles also didn't feel like company, so one night when Angie invited the Millers over for dinner, he was furious. "Why would you do that?" he asked. "Do you want them to see me like this?"
Angie looked at him, confused. "Charles, they saw you like this in the hospital," she said. "They're our friends. Why wouldn't I have them over?"
"Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have people see me doing nothing but lying in this bed? I can't even get up to go to the bathroom without your help, my ribs were so badly broken!" Charles yelled.
Angie frowned. "Charles, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to embarrass you," she said. "I didn't mean to."
"I know, I know, you have never meant to do anything you've been doing these past few weeks. You didn't mean to burn dinner that night, you didn't mean to leave the iron on too long, and you didn't mean to call people to invite them over to have a look at the poor, crippled man who can't take care of his family! Just leave me alone!" Charles shouted.
Angie could feel tears coming to her eyes. Her husband had never acted this way before. She went downstairs and took out some vegetables that she intended to make for dinner. Charles may not have been up to company, but Angie wasn't going to turn them away after she'd told them they could come over. It was too late to do so. She grabbed a knife and began chopping the vegetables. Suddenly she started to cry, and the tears blurred her vision and she didn't see where she was cutting. All of a sudden she felt the knife cut her hand! She wiped away her tears and looked at her hand. Blood oozed out of the palm of her hand, and her hand began to throb. Angie grabbed a towel, held it on her hand, and went back into her bedroom to go into the master bathroom for a bandage and peroxide.
When Charles saw Angie's cheeks stained with tears and her bloody hand, he immediately regretted everything he'd said to her and could think about nothing but taking care of her. "Angie, baby, what happened?" he asked.
"I--cut my hand. I need a bandage and peroxide," she sobbed. "I was chopping vegetables. Guess this is another example of my messing up when making meals, huh?"
Charles sighed sadly. "Baby, I didn't mean those things I said. I'm very sorry. You've been so good to me, and I took my bitterness out on you. I'll take care of you now. Go and get a wet washcloth and the bandage and peroxide and I'll take care of you," he said softly.
Angie went and got what he told her to get. Charles carefully applied first aid. He gently washed Angie's hand with the washcloth, applied only a pinch of peroxide to her hand, gently dabbed the pus off of her hand, then wrapped her hand in the gauze bandage, carefully putting each layer on until no more blood was soaking through. He hugged her and kissed her and said, "Darling, I'm so sorry you got hurt and for the way I've been acting toward you and Jeremiah. I love you both so much and am thankful to God for both of you. Do you forgive me?"
Angie nodded and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Of course."
Charles looked at her and said, "Why don't you order dinner in tonight? You've worked so hard and need a break."
Angie smiled. "Good idea," she said.
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