Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL (01/23/20)
TITLE: One Scoop or Two?
By Holly Short
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As the clomp of his work-boots retreated to our bedroom, I got up to pull a frozen lasagna out of the oven. Clearly, we had an unspoken understanding that we both needed a no-fuss Friday evening at home. My husband’s reappearance in his black and red checkered pajamas underscored our silent agreement. I set the kids up with a movie in the back bedroom and selected a show for us before nestling back into the cushions. It had been a long week.
“I’m sorry I don’t smell very good. I got busy with the kids after my workout and never stopped to shower.”
Ignoring the warning, my husband kissed me and settled in close on the couch, plates of lasagna perched on both our laps.
“What kind of ice-cream did you get?”
“You weren’t supposed to see that. It’s a surprise.”
I sighed and for the next half hour we let the movie stars do the talking.
I was just about to get up for a second helping when my phone rang. In an era of texting, I was alarmed to see Michelle’s name on the caller I.D. Our budding friendship had only just begun to move beyond the walls of church. Something must be wrong.
“Michelle? Are you alright?”
“Hi Hailey! We’re here!”
My mind froze.
“What do you mean?”
“Hailey? This is Hailey Sherman, right?”
Wide-eyed, I motioned to my husband to open the front door. Blanching, he looked down at his pajamas as he stood up from the couch. I trailed behind him, the phone still at my ear.
I saw the Aloe vera plant first, then the tray of brownies, and finally, the shocked faces of Michelle and her husband, Hank, as they stepped through the door.
“You forgot!” Michelle laughed.
“We scheduled dinner for next Friday!” The pitch of my voice sounded rather high.
“No, did we?”
Phone still in hand, I scrolled to the confirming evidence.
Hank looked like he wanted to hide. Michelle scanned the cluttered table and counters and hugged the housewarming gifts closer to her chest. I took a peek at the sad tray of lonely lasagna noodles, barely enough for one.
“We have ice-cream!” I blurted out, remembering my husband’s covert dessert operation. “And you brought brownies!”
Acknowledging the Divine moment, jackets were removed and the men made their way into the living room.
The coffee pot sputtered as I scooped ice-cream while Michelle added brownies to the bowls. I noticed her eyes wandering to the top of my head.
“Is my hair sticking up?”
Her chin turtled into her neck and her lips stayed pursed, but the truth was revealed in her raised eyebrows.
Laughing about the moment, we carried dessert into the living room and settled in amongst the piles of unfolded laundry for one of the most enjoyable Friday evenings we had had in a long time.
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