It’s 6:30 a.m. on a chilly fall day and I’m lying in bed. I hear the garage door open, then the car engine. A minute later, the garage door closes. Tim’s car pulls out of the driveway. I have 12 hours until he returns.
I’m not a morning person. On cool fall days it takes me longer to force myself out of bed. I wait a few minutes before getting up. I make the bed and get dressed. I go downstairs to the kitchen and turn on the coffee maker. I root through the fridge to see what I can find for breakfast. I take out bagels and cream cheese.
My children are still sleeping. I’ll wake them up soon. They need time to get ready before school. They catch the school bus at 8:05. Lizzy is in Grade 4 and Liam is in Grade 2.
I take a few sips of my coffee before going upstairs to wake up the kids.
“Hi sweetie, it’s time to rise and shine,” I say softly to Lizzy. She rolls over to the other side of the bed.
“Come on,” I say, “time to get up.” I leave her room and go to Liam’s.
“Good morning, honey, time to get up.” Liam opens his eyes and gives me a big smile. He is a morning person. He hops out of bed and looks on the floor where his clothes are scattered. He picks a blue Pokémon T-shirt and grey sweatpants to wear to school.
I hear Lizzy moving around in her room. I peek in to make sure she is getting ready.
“How’s it going in here?”
“I don’t have anything to wear,” exclaims Lizzy.
“Why don’t you wear that pretty pink top with your jeans?” I suggest.
“Oh, Mom, I wore that two days ago,” she says, rolling her eyes.“I can’t wear it again this week.”
“Well, don’t spend too much time trying to decide,” I say. “We need to be at the bus stop in half an hour.”
“I guess I’ll wear my old purple sweatshirt with my blue skirt,” she says, uninspired.
I go down to the kitchen to toast the bagels.
A few minutes later, the kids are sitting at the table.
“Are we having bagels again?” Lizzy is disappointed.
“Yes, there are only a couple left,” I say gently. “Let’s use them up before they go stale.”
She groans as she takes a bite of the bagel.
Breakfast is finished. We put on our jackets. The kids grab their schoolbags, and we head out the door.
“I have library today,” Liam says, as we walk to the bus stop.
“I’m volunteering in the library this morning,” I smile. “So I’ll see you after recess.”
“Yay!” Liam is excited.
“What about you, Lizzy?” I ask. “Anything interesting happening today?”
“Just gym class,” she replies, looking towards the bus stop.
Four kids who live nearby walk slowly towards us. We all arrive at the corner together. These kids are a few years older than Lizzy and Liam. They stand several feet away. In the distance, I see the bright yellow bus approaching.
“Here comes the bus,” Liam whispers to me.
The bus slows down as it nears us. The brakes screech to a stop. The door folds open. The bus is quite full because our stop is near the end of the route.
Lizzy and Liam get on before the older kids. Liam sits at the front and slides over to the window. I watch Lizzy as she heads towards the middle of the bus to sit with her friends.
As the bus pulls away, Liam puts his hand on the window to give me a discreet wave. We smile at each other until he is out of sight.
I walk back home and take in the beautiful colours of the maple trees. The deep red and orange leaves look brilliant in the morning sun. The street is quiet except for the rustling of the leaves on the ground.
I enjoy this peaceful walk every morning.
At home, I put the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. I clean the coffee maker and toaster. I sweep the kitchen floor. I bring the laundry basket with the dirty clothes downstairs, place the clothes in the washer and turn it on.
I double check my calendar. Lizzy has Brownies after school. Pickup is at 5:30 p.m. This requires a meal that can be prepared in advance. Dinner must be ready for Tim’s arrival. He doesn’t like to wait. Tacos and salad, then. I’ll prepare the tacos while Lizzy is at Brownies.
I straighten up the pillows on the sofa, put the remote beside Tim’s armchair and make sure everything else is where it should be. I put on my coat, pick up my purse and car keys. I drive to the school for my library volunteer assignment.
Once the last class has passed through the library, I exit the school and wait in the play area for my kids to come out.
Very few kids go home for lunch. Tim thinks that because I’m not working it’s much better for our kids to have home-cooked meals at lunch.
The kids come out and we drive the short distance to our home. They plop themselves in front of the TV while I prepare Kraft dinner. I’m grateful I can keep an eye on them from the kitchen. The open-concept design was the reason we bought this home. After lunch, I drive the kids back to school.
I’m missing some spices for the tacos. If I go to the grocery store now, I might miss Tim’s 1:00 p.m. call. I need to be there for the call. Otherwise, he questions me about where I was. I don’t want to risk it today, so I go home to wait for the call. I stand beside the phone and glance at the newspaper while I wait. If I take too long to answer the phone, Tim will accuse me of being self-centered. He’ll say I don’t care enough about him.
The phone rings at 1:10.
“Hello,” I say calmly.
“How are you?” Tim asks.
“Good,” I reply. “How is work?”
“The usual. The boss is demanding more input from the team. I don’t know how long I can keep up this pace,” Tim complains. He always does.
“Who did you see today?” He wants to know.
“Nobody.” I try to sound bored.
“Who did you talk to?” Tim probes further.
“Nobody,” I reply. I am exasperated but mustn’t show it.
“What’s for dinner?” Tim asks.
“Tacos and salad,” I mumble, staring at the ceiling.
“Ok, see you after work,” Tim says hurriedly.
“Sounds good,” I say chirpily.
I hang up the phone. I am relieved. The call is over without incident. I answered his questions appropriately. I can go to the grocery store now.
The midday calls started after Lizzy was born. At that time, I was happy to hear from Tim. Now, I know he is checking up on me. I’m frustrated, but I don’t want to make Tim angry.
At 2:55, I walk over to the bus stop to greet the kids. They are both chatty about the preparations starting soon for the holiday pageant. They are both hopeful about what role they might play in the production. Along the way, we stop at the community mailbox to pick up our mail.
In the kitchen, I cut up carrots and cucumbers and put them on the table. While the kids eat their snack, I pile the mail on the back counter the way Tim likes it: small envelopes on top, larger ones at the bottom.
“Lizzy, don’t forget you have Brownies today.”
“I know, Mom, we are working on our Fire Brigade badge. A real firefighter is coming to the meeting today.” She is excited.
“Wow, that sounds amazing,” says Liam.
“It really does,” I chime in. “I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get back.”
At 3:45 p.m., all three of us get in the car and drive Lizzy to Brownies. Twenty minutes later, Liam and I are back home. He works on a math worksheet. I fold the laundry, prepare the tacos and salad.
It’s 5:00 o’clock.
“How’s the homework going?” I ask Liam.
“Good, I’m almost finished.”
“Ok, we have to leave in 10 minutes to pick up Lizzy.”
At 5:25 p.m. Liam and I see Lizzy socializing with her friends.
“Come on, Lizzy, let’s go,” I say. She dawdles while putting on her coat and chatting. I check the time. My heart rate picks up.
“Let’s go, Lizzy,” I say in an agitated voice. “Dad will be home from work soon.”
“I’m coming, Mom,” she says.
At home. I tell the kids to put their coats away. They take their school bags to their rooms.
Fifteen minutes. Tim will be back soon.
Dinner is ready. The table is set. The kids are playing quietly in their rooms.
I suddenly realize I forgot to organize the fridge the way Tim likes it. The yogurt he likes must be at the front of the fridge. I hastily open the fridge door and rearrange the items correctly.
I take a quick look at the family room and the hallway to make sure nothing is out of place. I pour myself a glass of wine and take a sip. I instantly calm down.
6:00 p.m. I stand beside the kitchen counter, sipping my wine, anxiously waiting for the garage door to open. I know not to sit down. Tim will say I sit on my ass all day. 6:20 p.m. The door opens. Tim walks in, carrying his computer bag. He takes off his coat and hands it to me along with his bag. Quickly, I put them beside his desk.
“How was your day?” Tim asks. He walks over to the counter at the back of the kitchen to get the mail.
“Fine,” I say. I must not speak too much. I don’t want to distract him from reading the mail. I continue sipping on my wine. A calmness moves through my body.
“I’m going to get changed,” Tim announces.
“Ok, dinner will be on the table when you come down.” I sound calm.
I am anxious about dinner. Will Tim complain? His behavior is unpredictable.
I pour myself another glass of wine.
At 6:30, Tim and the kids come down for dinner. I serve everyone and sit down to eat. The forks are tapping on the plates. Tim isn’t chatting tonight.
To break the silence, I mention a firefighter came to Lizzy’s Brownie meeting.
“He taught us what to do when we hear the smoke detector,” Lizzy says excitedly. “He even turned one on for us. It was so loud!”
“That sounds fun,” Tim says without looking up. He’s not interested. Lizzy doesn’t say anything else.
We finish dinner at 7:00. Tim heads to the family room to watch TV. Lizzy goes to her bedroom to do homework. Liam plays with his trains on the kitchen floor. I clean up the dishes.
By 7:35 the kitchen is clean. Liam and I go upstairs, so he can get ready for bed.
“What the hell is wrong with this TV?” yells Tim.
I run downstairs, taking two steps at a time.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I can’t get Netflix on the screen,” Tim says in an agitated tone.
“Push the red button,” I reply, nervously.
“I tried that, and it didn’t work.” Tim shoves the remote towards me.
I fiddle with the remote and get the Netflix show on the screen. Tim calms down and I wait a minute to ensure there are no further issues. I return to Liam’s room and read him a bedtime story. I tuck him into bed and check in on Lizzy. She has finished her homework and is getting ready for bed. I kiss her goodnight and then join Tim in the family room.
I don’t like the show he is watching, but I sit down. Otherwise, Tim will get angry with me for not wanting to spend time with him.
It’s 8:25. I could really use more wine, but I have a rule about not pouring a glass after 8:30. The wine really helps me calm down. I frequently struggle about that third glass. Tonight, I decide against it because I only have 30 minutes to wait until Tim goes to bed. I sit there in silence until the show ends.
“Well, time for bed,” Tim says at 8:58. He looks tired. He goes to the kitchen to pick up his computer bag and sets it beside the garage door.
“Ok, have a good sleep,” I say, looking in his direction. I walk over to his armchair and pick up the remote. I sit down on the sofa.
“Good night,” Tim says as he walks past the family room towards the stairs.
I hear the flushing of the toilet and then water running in the sink. I adjust the pillow behind my back and drape a blanket over my legs.
At 9:15, I hear Tim get into bed. I breathe a sigh of relief.
I turn the channel to a show I like. I relax. The buzz from the wine is wearing off, but I can manage until I go to bed in a few hours. I’m too tired to do anything except sit and watch TV.
I enjoy this time alone.
“Wine with Dinner” also appears in A Literary Harvest: Canadian Writing About Wine and Other Libations (Longbridge Books, 2025)
Heather McGuire resides in Montreal. She earned a Master of Arts degree from Concordia University. She has worked in business and the non-profit sector. She is a member of the Quebec Writers’ Federation. Her short stories “I Should have Known” and “That Day on the Terrace” have been published in Accenti Magazine.
