Mopping Up

Crash! The coffee mug hit the wall and splattered hot, brown liquid all over the floral wallpaper. The baby in the highchair screamed and wailed as the coffee dripped onto her head.

"Are you crazy?!" Kayley shrieked, scooping up her daughter. She whirled back around to face her husband, eyes ablaze with maternal fury.

"If you tell me that I need a job one more time, I'll throw something worse than a stupid cup of coffee," Gavin growled. He shoved his chair back and barreled out the back door.

Off to the pub again, Kayley sighed. She shushed the crying baby and wiped the brown streaks off her forehead. Once her daughter was happy with her toys again, Kayley sat at the kitchen table and stared at the stain on the wall. The liquid ran down the wall like tears, turning more of the wallpaper into an ugly shade of dirty brown. Just like this marriage.

Gavin had changed so much. She remembered how he had been during their first years of marriage, so playful and optimistic. He used to bring her a different type of flower every month, even if it was just a weed. Once he had sent her out of the house for a couple of hours, and when she had returned, he had set up a teatime picnic under a bed sheet tent.

Maybe it was her that changed. Kayley snorted to herself in annoyance. Someone had to take control of this family. Especially since Gavin quit his job to pursue his art. "Yeah, how's that working out for ya?" Kayley mumbled. He moped around the house or the pub while she took their daughter to daycare and worked a nine-hour job with the world's creepiest boss. She started to pick up the scattered shards of mug from the linoleum floor.

One sharp piece pierced her finger and drew a spot of blood. It didn't hurt really, but Kayley felt the tears rush to the surface. She slumped down against the wall and held her finger to her mouth. She let all her frustration and pent-up anger pour out and run down her cheeks.

She smelled him first, a mix of Irish Springs and coffee, before his arm slipped around her shoulders. "Shh, shh, shh, darlin'," he crooned. She held her finger out to him, like a child showing a parent where to kiss it all better. "Did you cut yourself, then?" he pressed the finger to his lips and hugged her tighter. "I'm sorry for that, Kayley."

She gulped down her sobs and took a shaky breath. "What happened to us, Gavin? Why are we like this?"

He took a moment before answering. "I don't really know, darlin'. I guess we're kind of like this spilled cup of coffee. We need to pick up the pieces, mop up our messes, and pour a new cup."

"I've started picking up the pieces," Kayley said.

Gavin smiled. "Aye, and I'll get the mop, then."

Bethany Bachman writes in Philadelphia and is in love with all things Gaelic (except for the Guinness).

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