Spring Storm

Michelle hummed to herself as she rinsed the breakfast dishes.  Outside the window the spring sun looked warm and inviting.  The grass was greening up nicely.  She glanced toward the table where her husband, David, lingered over a cup of coffee and the morning newspaper.

“It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day,” she said cheerfully.

“Hmmm.”

“I was just thinking that it’d be a good day to get some more of the garden planted.”

“Good Lord, woman, can’t I ever have a day off without you nagging me to do one thing or another?”

The air between them crackled with angry tension.

“If you had your way, you’d take every day off!”

“Well that’s what you do, sit around in front of the TV all day, every day!”

Michelle’s anger swelled until she felt as though she would burst.  “Oh, really?  And just who do you think keeps the house looking decent, takes care of the kids and cooks your meals?  Some little Mommy Fairy?”

“I just don’t think I should have to spend my days off digging around in some stupid old garden!”

“No, but you sure don’t mind eating what grows there, do you?  Just last week the kids and I planted the potatoes and cabbage as well as sowing the lettuce, radishes and stuff!  And you sure do enjoy your mashed potatoes and salads, don’t you?”

Seething with anger, she snatched her gardening gloves from the drawer and went outside.  She began yanking weeds from the small bed of spring bulbs planted along the front of the house while her thoughts roiled in huge dark clouds of resentment.

How dare he?  After all we only moved to the country at his insistence. ‘It’ll be better for the kids, all that fresh air and sunshine; we can grow most of our own food,’ he’d argued.  Whatever happened to that “we”? For that matter, whatever happened to the sweet, loving man I married?

The soothing warmth of the strengthening sun beating upon the back of her sweater and the rich aroma of the fertile soil slowly penetrated her senses, easing away the tenseness of her nerves.

Spying a fully opened daffodil, she knelt down, pulled off her gloves and gently cupped the velvety blossom between her palms.  Lowering her face toward the flower she inhaled the subtle scent and gave a sigh of appreciation for its delicate beauty.  As her anger dissipated she stood up and looked around the area.

The oak trees glowed with the pinkish halo of swelling leaf buds, while chirping birds did mating dances through their branches and pairs of squirrels chased each other around the trunks.  Wooded hills were decorated with layers of white dogwood blossoms, punctuated by rose-pink splotches of blooming redbud trees.

A light breeze wafted across the field, ruffling her hair and bringing the delicate scent of new grass and early spring wildflowers.  Michelle smiled. It’s too beautiful a day to let David’s foul mood ruin it.

Hearing the sound of ten-year-old Joey clumping down the stairs, she turned back toward the house. The boys will be ready for their breakfast.

Walking through the kitchen to return her gloves to the drawer, she tousled Joey’s hair as she passed the table where he sat.  “Your brothers up yet?” she asked as she washed and dried her hands.

“Mikey’s getting dressed.  I think Jimmy’s still asleep.”

She poured a couple glasses of orange juice, inhaling the tangy scent, and set one at each boy’s place.  “How do pancakes and sausage sound?”

He shrugged.  “Okay, I guess.”

Michelle smiled and began putting sausage into a skillet.  “Your enthusiasm overwhelms me.”

Before Joey could respond, Mike came into the kitchen, dropped into his chair and picked up his juice.

“How many pancakes do you guys want?” she asked, mixing the creamy batter.

“Two!” Joey shouted.

Mike looked doubtful.  “I’ll take one for now.  Can I have another after, maybe?”

“Sure, you can.”

Four-year-old Jimmy trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen, looking sleepy-eyed.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Michelle said as she lifted him into his booster chair; she dampened a cloth and wiped his face and hands before setting a small glass of juice before him.  Returning to the stove, she poured batter on the sizzling griddle while the boys chattered and teased one another. 

“David!” she called out.  “Are you going to join the boys for breakfast?”  Receiving no response, she laid down the spatula she’d been using to turn the sausage and walked to the living room doorway.  Her husband was stretched out on the couch, watching a show on TV.  “David?”

He impatiently waved her away.

Returning to the range, she slowly inhaled the spicy scent of the frying sausage and flipped the pancakes.  She sadly shook her head.  “You guys want to help me set out some tomato and pepper plants when you’ve finished eating?” she asked over her shoulder.

“I guess,” Joey answered.

“Might as well,” Mike added.

“Can I help too, Mommy?” Jimmy questioned.

“Sure you can.  With all of us working together, it won’t take long at all; then we can go for a walk in the woods or something.”

While the boys ate, Michelle went to the sink to begin cleaning up her cooking utensils.  Steam rose from the faucet, tickling her nose and bringing on a sudden sneeze.

“Bless you,” Joey said around a mouthful of pancake.

“Thank you,” Michelle mumbled stuffily as she rubbed her itchy nose with the back of her wrist.

Going to the range to retrieve the griddle, she paused beside the table.  “You want another pancake, Mike?”

“Nah, I’m okay.”

Soon Joey and then Mike brought her their plates and silverware.  “You guys had better go put on a sweater, it’s still a little chilly outside.”  After rinsing their dishes and loading them in the dishwasher, she helped Jimmy finish his plate and lifted him down.  “Go get your sweater, baby.”

She was just finishing up the kitchen when the boys returned.  “Ready?  Everything’s in the basement.”

Soon they were all parading to the garden area with Jimmy in the lead, carrying the trowels; Joey following with a flat of small peat-potted plants; and, Michelle with the watering can.  “Grab that fallen branch, Mike,” she instructed, “and break it into about 8-inch pieces.”

When they arrived and had set down their burdens, Michelle stretched her back.  “Okay, you guys know the routine.  We’ll put these in right below the cabbage plants.  I’ll poke a stick in the ground where each plant should go; Jimmy will set a pot by each stick; Joey and Mike will dig the holes and I’ll set the plants.  Okay?”

While they worked, the sun climbed higher in the sky and their shadows grew shorter.  Soon Michelle felt perspiration forming beads around her hairline and trickling downward to dampen her collar.  Shrugging out of her sweater, she took it to hang on the garden fence and noticed that the boys’ outer garments had already been shed. 

When they finished and were putting the tools away, Joey said, “Hey mom, would you play catch with me?” 

“Maybe we could all play some catch, how’d that be?”

“Ah, mom, Little League will be starting soon and I’d like to practice my catching.  Mike and Jimmy can’t throw hard enough.”

“That’s okay, mom,” Mike said.  “Me and Jimmy can play something else.”

“You sure?”

“Push me on the swing, Mikey?”

“For a little while, then we can play with our trucks.”

“All right, Joey, go get your glove.”

Joey ran into the house and soon rejoined them in the yard carrying not only his fielder’s glove but also a catcher’s mitt.

“You may need this, mom.  I’m throwing a lot harder now.”

Soon the soft smack of leather against leather and the creak of swing chains provided the rhythm for the warbling of the birds.

“Heads up, mom!” Joey sang out.  “I’m gonna try a fast one.”

Michelle had to stretch to grab the missile that came flying at her and when it cracked into her mitt, she looked at Joey in amazement.  “Kid, you sure are throwing a lot harder!”  Tucking the ball under her arm, she pulled off the mitt and massaged her stinging palm.  “I’m glad you brought me this mitt!”

Joey laughed.  “Maybe I’ll try out for pitcher!”

“Work on your control and you just might make it.”

Mike and Joey had moved to the sand pile and the sun had reached its zenith when Michelle said, “Okay, Joey, last one.  I’ve got to go fix us some lunch.”

When she walked through the door into the kitchen, Michelle bumped into the table.  She paused and closed her eyes to allow them to adjust to the dimness after all of the bright sunshine. Guess it’ll be grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch; then I’ve got to get started on the laundry.

She heard snores emanating from the living room and shook her head in anger. He’s just lying around sleeping while I have to do everything else!  Why wasn’t he, at least, out there helping Joey practice? Isn’t that what a father is supposed to do? She grabbed the griddle out of the dishwasher and slammed it on the range. 

David came into the kitchen.  “It’s about time you decided to get me some lunch.”

“Why didn’t you fix it yourself?  You haven’t been doing anything else?”

He sneered at her.  “That’s woman’s work!”

She whirled to face him, fire flashing from her eyes.  “And just what is the man’s work around here?  You can’t even support Joey with his baseball!”

“What do you mean?  I go to all his games!”

“Oh, sure.  You go out there in front of the crowd and yell like crazy when he makes a good play.  But what do you do to help him get better?  Did you even know that he wants to try out for pitcher?”

“Pitcher? Joey?”

“Yeah, pitcher!  See how involved you are?”

“I’ll work with him; help him out.”

“Sure you will!  Just like you helped plant the tomatoes!”

“You planted those things?”  He grabbed a cup from the cabinet and picked up the nearly empty coffee pot.  “You didn’t make fresh coffee?”

Without a word, Michelle continued making lunch.  When it was ready, she called the boys in, dished it up and went to the basement to start the laundry. I’ll grab a bite later.  I just can’t face David right now!

After starting her first load, Michelle came back upstairs, saw the table littered with dirty dishes and sighed. Following Daddy’s example, no doubt.  While cleaning up the mess, she glanced into the living room where the television still murmured and found it empty.  She had just slapped a slice of cheese on bread when she heard David’s angry voice filtering in from the backyard.  Taking a bite of the bland-tasting sandwich, she went to peer out the window.

Joey was wearing his baseball glove and looked near tears while David stood across the yard, shouting and waving his arms. Is this how he “helps” him learn to pitch?  She heaved a deep sigh and returned to the laundry.

Before long, Michelle heard David stomp through the house and thump down on the couch.  His angry vibrations permeated the very walls and Michelle shivered. Poor Joey. Soon Joey’s dragging footsteps came down the basement stairs.  He dropped onto a step and sat, looking dejected as he tossed the ball into his glove.

“You okay, babe?”

He nodded slowly.  “I just can’t seem to do anything right!”

What can I say?  I can’t tell him that I often feel the same way.  I don’t want to badmouth David to the kids.  “Sometimes your dad gets impatient.”

“More like all the time!”

“Sometime it may seem that way.  Where are your brothers?”

“Still playing with their trucks.”  He sighed.  “I’m going up to my room.”

Michelle spent the rest of the afternoon running up and down the stairs, getting dinner in the oven and keeping an eye on the boys; meanwhile, David lay on the couch and slept through a broadcast of the pros’ pre-season games.

An exhausted Michelle had one load still in the dryer when she stuck her head out of the door and called, “Come get washed up, kids!  Dinner’s about ready.” Seems like every bone in my body aches, she thought as she set the table and took the salad from the refrigerator.  When she took the pot roast from the oven she called,  “David!  Dinner’s ready.”

He came glumly into the room and sat down with a disgruntled expression.  Without a word, he began serving himself.  The kids filed in, glanced at their father, took their seats and sat quietly while Michelle filled their plates.  The atmosphere of the room felt heavy with silent tension as everyone ate.

Michelle ate a few bites and then pushed back her chair with a squawk of wood on tile.  “I’ve got to get the clothes out of the dryer,” she said, gathering up her plate and flatware  “You guys, put your dishes in the sink, okay?”

Fifteen minutes later she inhaled the fresh spring scent emanating from the basket as she trudged up the stairs one final time.  The kids’ places were clear except for a few scattered crumbs; but David’s had never been touched.  She was just finishing scraping plates and loading the dishwasher, when the kids returned carrying the Monopoly game.

“Play with us, Mom, please,” Mike pleaded.

“Yeah,” Joey added.  “Somebody’s got to help Jimmy.”

“Okay, in a minute.” It’ll feel really good just to sit down for a while.


A few hours later, the game was put away, the kids had their baths and Michelle tucked them into bed.  She started back downstairs.  As she passed the master bedroom, she glanced in then stopped in the doorway.

That bed looks so inviting! She gave a slight shake of her head.  But David would be ticked if I went to bed.  She paused. So what else is new?  She shrugged, went into the room and undressed for bed.


Sometime later, she was bounced awake when David dropped onto the bed.  She felt him tugging at the covers but maintained her breathing at a slow steady rate and pretended she was still sound asleep. 

He snuggled against her back and snaked his arm around her body. 

“Uh huh,” she muttered, shaking his arm off her shoulder and squirming away from him.

“Oh, come on, babe,” he murmured in her ear.  “I just want a little lovin’.”  He squeezed her breast.

She pushed his hand away.  “Don’t!”

“What’s your problem?”

“I’m tired.  I want to sleep.”

“Humph,” he snorted, flopping over on his other side.

Uh oh, now he’s really mad!  Oh well, maybe if he had done something besides sleep all day, he’d be tired too.  She snuggled deeper into her pillow and struggled to relax.


The next morning, Michelle got up early, put on a pot of coffee and went to take a nice long shower.  She turned on the hot water, shrugged out of her robe and stepped into the tub.  The stream of hot water hitting the cold porcelain sent waves of chilly air up around her covering her entire body with gooseflesh.  She adjusted the water temperature, turned the shower nozzle to a fine spray and flipped it on.  Shower gel slurped onto her pouf and soon the refreshing scent of herbs wafted around her soothing her frayed nerves.

When she went back to the kitchen, David was sitting at the table sipping his coffee.  She poured herself a cup of the rich aromatic brew and sat down with a sigh.  She had just taken a sip of the rich flavorful liquid when she felt him watching her and looked up to see his smirk.  “What?  What is it?”

“You looked outside yet this morning?”

“No, why?”

He just shrugged, so she got up, went to the window and pulled back the curtain upon the brightening sky.  “Oh my God!”  A foot of snow covered the ground and mounds of it doubled the height of tree branches.

“Heh, heh, I told you it was too early to put those plants out.  Now just look at all the time and energy you wasted.”

Without a word, she went to the closet, pulled on her boots, shrugged into her jacket and turned to pick up her coffee mug.  She stepped out into a silent world.  Not a bird chirped or twittered; no squirrel chattered, scolding her from a branch.  It felt as if the world was holding its breath, waiting. 

Footsteps making deep indentations in the fluffy snow, she wrapped her hands around the warm mug and walked toward the garden gate. It doesn’t seem all that cold. The garden, like everything else, was buried beneath the thick white blanket.  She gazed at the area where they had set out the plants and fought the urge to scoop the snow from around one to see how bad of damage had been done. No, that’s foolish!  What if it gets colder?  If I uncover them, they will freeze if they aren’t already.  Besides isn’t snow supposed to be insulating? It was warm last evening; maybe they’ll survive if I just leave them alone.

She turned to go back to the house and noticed that the sun was just clearing the horizon.  Even those early rays felt warm on her face. Maybe those plants will be all right.  She sighed. I wonder if the sun will ever again shine in our marriage.


Word Count: 2946