Matter

CHAPTER 1

"Good Morning! Thank you for tuning in to News Four at 5:30. We begin this broadcast with the war in..." My peaceful sleep has been brought to an abrupt halt by my husband turning on the television. Light from the closet breaks through my solace even more. Dylan is home from Karla's and has come home to find a fresh change of clothes before work. Stale sweat and perfume breaches into my sacred space, turning my stomach. I pull the sheet and comforter over my head in a failing attempt to fall back to sleep.

"Hey, do you know where my other pair of sleeves are? I'm getting this set cleaned today and I need the other." Ugh, he just cannot leave me alone!

I throw my covers off, making a show of my hostility as I go into the closet and pull the welding sleeves out, pushing him out of the way as I do. I don't want to be in the same room with him so I silently make my way to the kitchen to start the coffee.

As I pass by my son's room I peer in. His angelic face assures me he is still lost in slumber. I quietly ease the door shut and continue on my way to my morning jump start.

I toss out the portion I failed to finish last night and brew a fresh pot. I sit at my laptop exiting out of the word and presentation programs and open Facebook. This is my escape from the torture of a cheating husband and the stresses of being a single mom while balancing school. As I scan through the recently added pictures, I catch a few heated arguments that ended about an hour ago. I shake my head and smile as the drama continues.

The coffee pot gurgles and the aroma is welcomed into my sleepy mind. I pour myself a cup and sit back in front of the bright screen. Several people are posting about the war and how the president is just rolling over and letting America take it. I am so tired of hearing about this political crap. I have better things to do than read up on every shifty and shady character in Washington. They all are like that, people should just get used to it. The only political information I care about is in my Political Science class, and I barely pay attention to that. I go through my notifications and scroll through game requests thinking, "Come on, if I wanted to play the stupid game, I would have a long time ago." I grunt mindlessly as I continue to stare at the screen. As I finish my first cup of coffee, I continue on to Twitter, giving my opinion of my rude awakening this morning in less than 140 characters.

Dylan walks into the kitchen, smelling of Irish Spring. I take my computer to the kitchen table to avoid being near him as he pours himself a cup of my coffee. We sit in silence, strangers stuck in limbo together. The ties that had brought us together have frayed in the weather of many storms and each breeze that passes threatens to make everything shatter. There is nothing left to talk about, he said he had fallen out of love with me and only stayed because he felt obligated to do so. I had begged and pleaded with him before, but as soon as he told me I was an obligation, I stopped fighting for our marriage.

I'm disappointed that we didn't last, we were so sure of our love when we stood before our friends and family seven years ago. I have since taken down the pictures from that day when he still looked at me as if I was all he ever would want or need. Dylan and I, we just exist now. No communication, no love is there. We have closed each other out. He was my knight in shining armor at one time, but I guess the joke was on me.

I shake myself from my thoughts as my Nicholas, comes into the room rubbing his sleepy eyes. The only emotional tie we have is for him, and the love that spreads across each of our faces as we see him redefines that common bond.

"Mommy, I'm hungry," he says groggily as he climbs into the chair beside me. I kiss him on the forehead and go to the refrigerator.

"Hey big man! How's my little buddy doing this morning?" I shake my head as Dylan talks to Nick as if nothing is wrong. It's as irritating as nails on a chalkboard. I do my best to hide my discontent, but at times it leaks out. I don't smile out of happiness unless it concerns Nicholas. Anytime Dylan enters into a conversation or the scarce mention of Karla will bring my anger to the surface.

"Daddy, you said you would read me a story when you got home last night. You didn't do it." I attempt to hold in my laughter as best I can as my son slaps his father in the face so much better than I ever could. I am not as successful at suppressing my humor of the moment as I perceived I could be. I proceed to make Nick's breakfast, trying not to interrupt this heavy conversation.

Dylan looks at me with contempt before turning his attention back to Nick, "I'm sorry, buddy. Daddy had to work late last night and didn't make it home until really late. Can I make it up to you? How about McDonald's after I get home tonight?"

"Are you gonna make it, Daddy? Will you work late again?" I am so proud of my son at this very moment. He nails his father's escapades like a red letter to his chest. Dylan ducks his head, trying to hide his shame and I smile to see the expression on his face. My smug attitude is radiating in the morning light.

"Yes, Nick, I will make it for you. I will even leave early and tell my boss not to keep me late." Dylan quickly exits to put his boots on to go to work, where Karla is waiting for him at the front desk.

He gives Nick a high-five and a hug, rushing out the door to tell his "boss" he can't work late tonight. Lies are so very hard to keep up with and he is struggling under the weight. He hasn't told his family, though I have already told mine. He skirts around the truth of why he spends so much time away from home. I'm sure they already know, but don't want to torture me.

I set plates of scrambled eggs and toast on the table, and pour another cup of coffee for myself and a glass of juice for Nick. He eats his eggs first and some of mine before he leaves to turn on cartoons. I continue my scope of the latest gossip on the celebrity pages and scroll through Pinterest, relaxing before I go to class.