Monday 5:59am Wake up from wine headache.  But more, a desire to read the Bible, and something else.  I turn on my sheets and see his familiar bulk.  I know. A thank you note for him.  Summer days have been tense. All home together.  So good. So bad. So hot outside.
6:05am Settle on couch with dog. Flip through scripture.  Drink juice. The headache eases. I find a verse.  I start a note to B. I should really get up early every day.  House at peace. Bathed in silence. 
7:00am Carry dog, note for hubs and Bible back upstairs. Avoid flooring that creaks. Iris will hear and get up. Set note by B’s toothbrush.
9:00am Well-check appointment for Ace.  Overly air conditioned doctor’s office. Time with just one child. “Where’s Wookie” book with him in the waiting room. Remember again: One child at a time is down right pleasant. Tension eases.  Hope hubs saw the note by his toothbrush.
11:05am Call from husband.  Truck died on daddy daughter donut date.  Axel broke. Twisted metal mess. Back into car to get he and Iris.   But its hot, Ace complains. I know.  Here’s some water.  Sun radio station.  AC blasting.  Getting hungry for lunch.
12:05pm  Husband looks defeated.  Broke down truck.  Sweat covered shirt.  He paces.  Looks up from his phone, scans street. Waiting for AAA tow truck.  The cicadas are deafening.
Check the car temp.  94 and climbing.
12:42pm Breaking all my own rules. Kids on my phone for going on an hour. Waiting for tow truck.  I’m starving, both kids whine.  I don’t correct them.  Absently look in rear view mirror.  Scan eyebrow hairs. I should pluck those.  Sigh again. I need a job.
3:00pm Home finally. Truck at the shop.  Latest lunch ever.  Kids eat then flop on couch. Can we watch  a show? Sure. Watch a show.  Climb stairs to guest room. Coolest, darkest room.  Read novel.  Should apply for jobs right now. But don’t. Should I grill fish or chicken for dinner? We can’t afford a new car right now.  Avoid reality.  Keep reading novel.
5:00pm YMCA.  Spin class.  I’m out of shape. One week vacation and now I can’t breathe.
7:00pm Late dinner. Iris eats a vegetable.  And a fruit.  And wants more fruit.  Hubs and I exchange wide eyes. Miracles can happen. Dog needs a walk. Still too hot out. 
8:30pm Backyard, watering fruit trees. Circles of dirt gulp down water. Everything has need.  Every living creature needs.  Say the words to my brain and heart: Stay honest to God and husband about yours.
11:38pm Limp into bathroom.  Brush my teeth. There’s the note I gave him this morning.  Did you like my note I mumble, mouth full of toothpaste suds. Loved it, he yawns, manages a lazy wink at me.  Flops on unmade bed.  Hope they can fix the truck, he says. Fades into sleep.  Cicadas outside just keep singing.  Dog days of summer.