Répit

I dribble the dregs of black tea latte on my chin and sink back into the sofa.

“Damnit! Did you get that on the cushion?” Carly drops a tube of stain remover beside my mug on the coffee table. “Her appointment is at 10:30. Get up, now!”

I refold the throw and plop it on the armrest. “It's still spotless, Car. Give me a minute, please."

I catch the cereal bar. "Thanks. Remember my work thing starts at 1:00.”

She reaches around me to pull several packets of berry-flavored fruit snacks from the box in the cabinet. “Tell me again why you’re doing that today.”

“For the job I’d like to keep. No such thing as a summer break anymore, Car.” I hand her the rest of the Rice Krispie treat.

She groans and downs the whole thing. “Mom never did stuff like that, she was off the whole time.”

“Well, I can’t turn the clock back 30 years. This is the price for the stable employment y'all insisted I pursue.” I shove my mug into the corner of the fridge and pull out a bunch of red grapes.

Madeline’s cries spill through the monitor. Carly winces, shoulders hunching toward her ears. “Password’s on the fridge. Just put on a Peppa DVD, if JuJu won’t sleep." She shouts from the stairs, "I'll bring you a matcha!"

Promises, promises.

I portion nut-butter topped Granny Smiths, refill their water bottles, and wipe down the counters.

“Aunt Maren! You’re here all day?" Julie wields a pink plastic wand topped with a tiny gold star, the matching glittery flounce on her tutu flaring.

“'Til your mama gets back. Where’s JJ?” I place a kiss into her braids as I slide the tag back inside her leotard.

“Tea party! And I wanna go to the park later.” Julie spills only a few Cheerios beside her bubble-gum pink ceramic cereal bowl. “Mama hasn’t taken us. She’s so busy.”

I pour until she raises her ring-laden right hand. “Well, I will be too, so pick the one you really want, and we’ll do the other thing next time.”

JJ appears, thumbs flying over keys, hoodie low over his brows. “Good Morning, Maren.” He drops into the chair at the far end, eyes bulging, inches from the screen.

“Good Morning, Josiah.” I set a bottle of cran-apple juice beside his bowl.

His teeth are taut below his bottom lip, "Fucking hell!"

Julie gasps at the crack against the wood. I mop the pool of milk beneath her spoon. “Mama’s gonna hit the roof if it’s scratched, Joe.”

“Are you hungry? Want some hot cereal, or cold?” I peel the phone from his fingers and stash it behind the stack of Tupperware atop the freezer. “Maybe a bowl of berries, with an attitude-adjustment cheese omelette?"

JJ shoulders slump, eyes downcast. “I'm sorry, Auntie. Please don’t tell her.”

I rub his forearm. “Let’s just have a good breakfast.”

"OK." JJ nibbles an apple slice, while I chop mushrooms, tomatoes, and sharp white cheddar. Julie hums the theme to one of her animated faves.

“Are you gonna be here all day, Aunt Maren?”

The pan sizzles in the dishwater. “What did you say, J- Josiah?”

“He loves it when you come.” Julie circles the star over her brother’s head. “I do, too!”

I bite the inside of my cheek. Josiah wipes his chin. “I’d rather have you here, Auntie Maren.”

"Uh hum." Their heads turn. Madeline gurgles, chubby fingers curling around Carly’s beaded turquoise and onyx choker.

“JJ? Julie? Everything OK here?” I don’t miss the quivering of Carly’s lips on the baby’s honey-caramel cheek, the widening of their hazel-honey eyes. Her eyes.

I smooth the ruffles on Madeline's blouse and kiss her forehead. “Ready, baby girl? You need help getting her in?” The strap of her lavender-smoke Kate Spade bag slips off a bare shoulder, but she waves away my hand.

When they're gone, I slide down the wall. Julie taps my big toe. "Leave her alone, JuJu." JJ's voice is a whisper.

Julie launches herself at me. “Auntie, do you think Mama is mad? She didn’t even say goodbye.”

I nod at JJ and bop her nose. “She was in a hurry. Y’all wanna go to the park, before it's too hot, or watch a movie now?”

“She’d tell us we have to read for a while.” He drags his gaze from his sister to me. “Can we go afterwards? I’ll even write a summary, like Mama said I have to.”

“Please, Auntie Maren?" Mid-leap, I catch Julie and squeeze her until she giggles.

“OK, half an hour for y'all." I pinky-shake them both, and they each take a hand to pull me from the carpet.

After a quick cleanup, they settle on opposite ends of the sofa, JJ with a mystery across his knees, Julie with her favorite girl-detective in her lap, I set out pens and my readers on the table.

My laptop chimes to life. The kitchen timer ticks. JJ flips a page. Julie’s eyelids flutter, her thumb losing its grip on the hardcover. I hover over the camera icon on my IPhone, then turn back to my screen.

Halfway through my messages, my heart races when the notification flickers across the page. ELA Training Meet, 11:00a CDT, Mon. Jul 29.

I cradle my device, cord dragging across the dark burgundy area rug.

“Auntie, are you OK? Did Mama text you?” JJ shifts forward, arm dangling over the armrest. “Is she mad?”

I exhale and plug into the outlet near the toaster. “Maybe.”

“I’m almost finished with my chapter.” He holds up the paperback, bookmark tucked halfway between the pages.

I shove my tea in the microwave. “You can go play.”

“Thanks!” JJ grins, shoves his phone in his back pocket and takes the stairs two at a time. Julie snores, her book covering her like a blanket, sandal-clad feet dangling from the edge of the cushion.

I reopen my to-do and click-check the first two boxes. Two down, eight to go.

The countdown applet winds down to one minute. I take a sip, and stick a bud in my ear.

My department chair flickers into view, and I click the mute icon. “...So glad everyone could make it this morning! And we thank you for making time in your busy, last days of summer break to get ready for a brand-new year.”

I follow the presentation link. My phone vibrates, inching forward.

Carly

10:51 Where are y’all?

10:54 Did Julie clean her room?

10:55 Did Josiah finish a chapter?

11:15 Do they want lunch?

11:17 Why aren’t you answering, Maren.

Julie taps my wrist with her star. “I’m bored, Auntie Maren.” She pulls her bottom lip toward her chin. “I wanna have fun! Play Candy Land with me.”

“...And you will need to submit it by 10 am tom—” The slide on the presentation melds into the next one. I type into the chat: I didn’t get that last bulletpoint, Louise.

“Auntie!”

My frames clatter on the table. I jerk open the freezer door, and shiver through an exhale.

“Are you OK?” Her lips quiver, palm sizzling against my skin.

“Quick, get a spoon.”

I dig until my hand cramps, and JJ folds his arms as he leans in the doorway. “Really?”

I yank a thumb toward the cabinet door. “Get another bowl.”

“I want a float.” I drop three scoops into a tumbler and then squeeze fudge on top. Root beer spills down the glass, and JJ squeals.

"This didn't happen." I wipe splatters from the table.

A key turns in the lock.

Rivers of vanilla and chocolate race down their chins. My stomach plunges, an elevator heading for a crash landing.

Arms folded, Carly leans against the doorway. “Wow. I guess this is why they love when you watch them.”

“I gave 'em just a little bit, for being quiet, while I was working."

“You two? Outside, now!” JJ opens and closes his mouth. Julie waves, and I wink back.

My left bud chimes, and I check the screen again. Louise’s survey link QR code flashes. I capture the image, just as the meet window closes. Shit.

Carly shakes her head. “I can’t trust you, Maren.”

“It’s Summer! Let ‘em be kids, and enjoy them while you can, Carly.”

“Easy for you to say.” We turn to the window. JJ waves Julie’s wand. She jumps to grab his arm, and he hauls her into a spinning embrace.

The corners of Carly’s lips are pitched upward. She pulls Maddy’s bear from the bag. “Where are you going?”

"Carly, I mixed up the times, and she wanted my attention. Then he came down, and I.. I'm sorry." I shove the cord into the front pocket. “I gotta message my team lead to get what I missed, so I can get ready for next week."

Utensils clank in the sink. She squeezes Dawn into JJ's glass. Water sprays onto her shrug.

“You’re gonna wake the baby, Car.” I drape a towel over her shoulders, and tuck a chub bottle of Ozarka in the front pocket of my backpack.

"Bye, sis. Kiss them for me."

In the car, I scroll through contacts on my phone. I’ll bring mint chip shakes on Saturday, sis 😗M.

I slip on my shades. At the end of the street, I tap the wheel to listen: They're safe, and we're on our way to PlayPark 🙏Love you sis.

I exhale. One more stop.

An hour later, sand slips between my toes. I clip a page in my literacy framework manual. Wind sweeps across my forehead, like a lover’s kiss.

I think I’ll stay.