Before The Sun Sets
Before The Sun Sets - book excerpt
Chapter 1
Sometimes you just know when it is not going to be a good day, James Cantrell thought. He stood in front of the full-length mirror mounted on the back of his bedroom closet door and aligned his necktie with his starched, white shirt collar.
As wonderful as the idea of crawling back into bed sounded, it couldn’t be done. Downstairs he heard his wife. Plates clanked. She half-whistled, half-hummed some made-up song. It was always the same song. One she’d either made up or one her mother had half-whistled, half-hummed when Linda was young.
He smelled bread toasting and bacon frying. He took his phone out of his suit pants pocket. There wasn’t time for breakfast. He was running far behind schedule. Avoiding stress means getting on the road before the inevitable morning rush. It was chaotic if he left for work on time. Ideally, he preferred hitting 390 before 7:30. Rarely was he that lucky. By 7:31 traffic became a wall of bumper to bumper, moved at a painstaking crawl, and God help you if you weren’t immediately in the lane you wanted. Merging and switching lanes were the stuff driving nightmares were made of. The stop-and-go lasted two miles at a cringeable three to five miles an hour. Despite the wonderful breakfast aromas from the kitchen, there wouldn’t be time to eat. If he waited much longer his hopes of getting to the office before anyone noticed he was late became increasingly less likely.
“Jimmy?” Linda called from downstairs.
“Be right down,” he answered, tightening the knot against his throat.
“Your eggs are getting cold.”
No time for breakfast, he thought. He snagged his suit coat off the foot of the bed, ran the back of his hand across the material as if a lint brush, and raced down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Matthew, their four-year-old son, sat in a booster at the table. He held a plastic fork in one hand and a fistful of scrambled eggs in the other. “Hi, daddy.”
James brushed the hair away from Matthew’s forehead and gave him a kiss. “How’s my little man?”
“I am eating eggs and bacon!” Matthew banged the end of the fork on the table. When he talked he oftentimes over-enunciated his prepositions. Eggs and bacon.
“Yes, you are,” James said. “Here, buddy. Use the fork to pick up the eggs. It’s better than eating the food right out of your hand.”
Matthew showed his father the strip of bacon in a fist. “Daddy?”
“Yeah,” James said, “that is actually okay.”
Matthew ignored the fork. James couldn’t blame his son.
“Is it, though?” Linda teased. Unbrushed auburn hair, tucked behind ears, flowed just past her shoulder and onto her back.
“Is what though?”
“Using a fork is better than picking up food with your hands?”
“He’s going to be in school next fall. We have one year to teach our son he is not a caveman,” James said. He winked at Matthew. It was an adult conversation. He doubted Matthew followed along. Just in case, he didn’t want his boy remembering a time when he compared him to a caveman. Although he doubted permanent damage would be inflicted, who could say for certain?
“Here,” Linda said. She brushed past him with a plate of food. At five-four, she was a good five inches shorter than he was. “Sit and eat.”
“Love to, babe. No time. I have to prep Mrs. Rollins today.”
Linda grinned. She had the most vibrant honey-brown eyes. “Whoa boy.”
“Yeah. No kidding. And I overslept.”
Matthew dropped eggs onto the floor.
“Snooze buttons are the evilest invention.” Linda took James’ breakfast plate back to the counter. She scooped eggs and bacon between two slices of toast. After she tore off a small square of aluminum foil she wrapped the lower half of the sandwich. “We really need a dog. Here, this way you can eat it when you drive.”
“No dog.” James kissed his wife. “You’re the best. My briefcase?”
“Dog?” Matthew said. “I want a dog. I want a dog. I want a dog.”
“By the front door, with your shoes.” Linda handed off the sandwich.
“No dog,” James said, giving Matthew another forehead kiss.
“I want a doggie.”
“We’ll talk about it,” James said.
“You shouldn’t tell him that,” Linda said.
“Why? We’ll talk about it.” James started toward the front door.
“You know how fast Matt will come to realize that ‘we’ll talk about it’ means ‘no’?”
“It won’t always mean ‘no’.” James kicked his toes into his shoes. He switched the egg and bacon sandwich from hand to hand as he jammed thumbs into the heels of his shoes to fit them on over his feet.
“So, we might get a dog this weekend?”
James shook his head. “We’ll talk about it.”
“In other words …”
James opened the front door.
Linda said, “Your briefcase.”
James spun around and picked it up. “What are you guys going to do today?”
“Visit pet stores,” Linda said.
“Doggie!” Matthew called from the table. “Woof, woof, woof!”
“Linda,” James said.
She rushed towards him and gave him one more kiss goodbye. “Have fun with Mrs. Rollins.”
“We will talk about that thing tonight.”
“You mean it?”
Linda had been raised with dogs. James had never had a pet larger than a goldfish. Matthew constantly asked about getting a dog. He wasn’t sold on the idea, but with two against one, the last thing he wanted was a dictatorship. “We’ll talk about it,” he said.
“And that doesn’t just mean ‘no’?”
He kissed Linda on the forehead. “No. It doesn’t. Now, I’ve got to run,” he said. “If Mrs. Rollins gets to the office before I do, I’ll never hear the end of it. Enjoy your day off.”
Chapter 2
Linda sat Matthew down on the kitchen counter. She used a clean washcloth on his face and hands. He squirmed but let her clean him up.
“What do you want to do today?”
The boy shrugged, his eyes focused on his spread, clean, fingers. “Something fun,” he said.
“Something fun like what?”
He wiggled as he shook his head. “I don’t know.”
James told Linda to enjoy her day off. She worked in the emergency room as a registered nurse at Highland. She mostly worked the graveyard shift. A few twelve hours days on, a few off. It balanced to just over forty hours a week. The days she worked, she was able to get home before her husband left for work. This was important. Neither wanted Matthew in daycare if they could help it. Soon he would be in school. She hated wishing time away. However, the idea of getting home from a long shift at the hospital and climbing right into bed sounded wonderful.
Days off were no vacation. Things needed doing, especially laundry. The three of them created mounds and mounds. Thankfully, James did his share of the housework. They were a traditional couple. They both worked so they both pitched in. James loved cooking. He made most of the meals. She teased him often on how Pinterest was his go-to for creative recipes. He’d keep the tablet on a stand propped on the kitchen counter when cooking dinner. Between Pinterest and YouTube, he was becoming a master chef home cook. She threatened to film him working his kitchen magic and submitting the video as an audition tape for one of the competition shows on Food Network.
“Tell you what,” she said.
He stared right into his mother’s eyes. “What?”
“Let me throw some clothes into the washing machine, and wash these dishes, and then you and I can go to the mall.”
“Go to the mall?”
He didn’t sound enthusiastic about the outing. She couldn’t blame him. The truth was she wanted to get some steps in. She was on her feet all day at work. She averaged over 15,000 steps per shift. So, on her days off she felt somewhat compelled to keep it up. She dropped most of the weight from when she’d been pregnant. The nagging few remaining held on in places she couldn’t seem to work off.
Her figure was important to her. James kept himself in good shape. He didn’t have a baby though. She might have to work twice as hard at it, but letting herself go flabby was not in the cards. Not to mention she felt better when she exercised. “Tell you what,” she said again, but this time she was ready to sweeten the deal.
“What?” He looked over her shoulder. Something stole his interest. She was losing him.
“How about when we get to the mall we ride the merry-go-round?”
“Merry-go-round?” Matthew did not hide the awe in his tone of voice. It was as if the musical ride held some kind of magical properties he was anxious to explore. She knew it would recapture his attention.
“You can ride any of the animals you want. Which animal would you like to ride?”
“Giraffe!”
She picked him up and carried him with her into the basement. Most of the time he wouldn’t let her carry him anywhere. He preferred walking around on his own. The few chances he allowed it she cherished the opportunity. “The giraffe?”
“And, the horsey.”
“I like the horses.”
“And Mom? Can I ride the lion?”
“You can ride any animal you want. How does that sound?” She set him down. The finished basement had something of a play area. Carpeting and a sofa. There was an old flat-screen television. She put on cartoons and then sighed as she stared at the pile of dirty laundry. Without knowing for certain, she suspected there was clean clothing still in the dryer. That would need another cycle because she was certainly in no mood to iron anything. Fortunately, James took his dress shirts and suits to a dry cleaner.
Outside, and in the distance, she heard thunder rolling. “Well, Matthew, it looks like we might be in for a little storm.”
“Yeah,” he said. He was rocking himself on the small sofa, hands clasped together in his lap. “In for a little storm.”
Mentally, Linda rolled up her sleeves and went to work on sorting whites from colored.
# # #
Sorting the laundry took longer than expected, but once she got a load into the washer and the washer started, she relished the sense of accomplishment. Taking Matthew upstairs, she decided she would quickly wash the breakfast dishes. It would take two minutes, and when they got home from the mall she wouldn’t regret not having done them first.
When she finished the dishes the idea of running the vacuum around the living room quickly made sense. It was raining hard, she wasn’t thrilled about taking Matthew out in the rain. She would, but maybe it the downpour would die down in a half-hour. As long as Matthew was being good, she figured taking advantage of his patience was an ideal opportunity. If she was lucky, the rain might stop altogether.
Praesent id libero id metus varius consectetur ac eget diam. Nulla felis nunc, consequat laoreet lacus id.