2002-07-08-9:14 p.m.

The lights went out right before Stan got home. I went out to the meter to see what it looked like when it wasn't spinning around ninety miles an hour. I was surprised somehow to see it still and quiet even though I knew that's how it would be.

I gave the kids the lecture about opening the refrigerator, lit candles on the table, in the kitchen, and on the entertainment center in the living room. It wasn't quite dark so I opened all the blinds to let in what was left of the light.

The frying pan sat on the stove next to the butter dish. Whoever was hungry would have to eat a sandwich now. Or maybe just ice cream. Stan had brought home ice cream for Daniel and his friend who was spending the night. It wouldn't kill anyone to have ice cream for supper just once, would it?

Daniel and his friend started playing Uno. First Becky could play, then she couldn't play, then she could. They all ate their coke floats in the candlelight and played cards together.

"Can we go get our games now?" Daniel asked. I promised that he could rent some games since having his friend over is a substitute for the birthday party he never got to have.

"Sure," I said. "I guess you could bring them home and look at them. And imagine how much fun you could be having if you could play them."

He was embarrassed, but smiled anyway. I'd caught him. It was part of the beginning of a bonding that happens between me and my kids when they can start sparring with me verbally. I look forward to the start of it with each child. I smiled at him, too, and his friend laughed. With us, not at us.

I lay down on the couch and said, "There's only one thing to do in a situation like this, and that's take a nap."

"Yeah, this put a damper on your plans, didn't it?" Stan answered.

"Oh!" He meant that I couldn't get on the computer, but what he said reminded me that I had found some good books at Goodwill that afternoon. We both got books and went outside and found lawn chairs so we could sit in the driveway and read in the fading light. There were mosquitoes, but they weren't too bad.

I found a poem in my book and I told him I would read it to him. He knows to listen quietly so he won't hurt my feelings. I started to read and Andrew ran around in between us making noise. We both shushed him, although I felt silly because I wasn't getting the poem at all and I was wishing it was over and wondering if Stan was wishing it was over as much as I was. I kept reading anyway, hoping to get to the good part. I never did.

"Well, that was totally not good," I said.

"My eyes glazed over at the very beginning," Stan said. And we went back to reading our books to ourselves.

"The power's back on," he said after a few minutes, nodding towards the porch light which had just come on.

"Yeah," I said, and we went back to reading again. The mosquitos were not too bad and I could imagine the meter going around and around again. Ninety miles an hour.

previous-next