My Husband Came Home to an Empty Nursery

He was in his high chair, slapping the tray like a tiny drunk judge.

Marlene was at the stove making oatmeal.

My phone buzzed.

A text from Derek.

Can I see him today? It’s my birthday.

I looked at it.

Then I looked at my son, who had a banana smear in his eyebrow and one sock missing.

Marlene did not ask what the message said.

She just put a bowl on the counter continue reading …