Free Quiet As It's Kept by Monique Miller Page A

Morgan closed her eyes and sniffed the air.
    â€œOh, just a casserole I baked.”
    Morgan’s eyebrows rose in question. “You know how to bake casseroles now?”
    â€œYep.” Will nodded like a child who had just mastered the art of tying his shoes.
    â€œWhat kind?”
    â€œA chicken, broccoli, cheese, and rice casserole.”
    â€œMan, it smells good. And that spaghetti you packed me for lunch today was absolutely scrumptious. I’m just sorry I didn’t get a chance to find that out last night,” Morgan said.
    Gingerly, Will placed his hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Honey, don’t bring all of that up. We’ve already kissed and made up. Besides, some people say spaghetti tastes better the second day anyway.”
    â€œAll I know is it was good. And it looks like I won’t miss the treat you’ve made for us tonight.”
    â€œNope, you sure won’t.”
    â€œOkay, I am going to slip out of these clothes and wash my face and hands, and I’ll be back down in a moment.”
    â€œGood, that will give me a chance to set the table.”
    â€œMan, my stomach is growling,” Morgan said.
    â€œI’ll second that. I don’t believe I’ve eaten since this morning.”
    Isaiah banged on his high chair and screamed something that sounded close to the word, “Yeah.”
    â€œOkay, I guess that is a third, so that makes it unanimous,” Will said.
    â€œSet the table, I’ll be right back down.” Morgan turned and left for their bedroom.
    Will nodded. He couldn’t have asked for the day to turn out any better than it had. And, from the looks of things, they were only continuing to get better. He looked forward to dinner, and also to the private session with his wife later on that evening. And while he still wasn’t sure exactly what kind of lesson he was supposed to learn from the test he was being put to, he was learning not to take the small things in life for granted. He never would have thought that just seeing a happy look on his wife’s face or looking forward to private, intimate time would cause him so much joy.
    He hated that he and Morgan had fought the night before, but as a result of the fight they had made up and it sounded like Morgan wanted to continue with round two of their session later on that night.
    After setting the table, Will pulled Isaiah’s high chair over into the dining room. The baby had shaken his bottle filled with formula so much that puddles of milk pooled on the surface of his high chair. Will got a paper towel and wiped up the spill. When he placed the paper towel in the trash can, he saw that it was full to the point that it was about to overflow. Before the job loss, he normally emptied the trash every other day or so on his way to work. But now he tried to make sure that it was as full as possible before taking it out, so as not to waste more money on trash bags.
    He stepped through his garage to throw the bag in the outside trash can. As he opened the door to return into the garage, a bird flew in. The bird flew to the corner and landed on a shelf. It then flew to the other side of the garage and landed on top of Morgan’s car.
    Will opened the garage and the bird flew out. He shook his head with an uneasy feeling about the bird coming into their house, as he remembered an old wives’ tale that his grandmother used to say. He knew it had something to do with birds flying into a person’s home and bad luck. He tried to shake off the feeling, thinking it was silly to put any credence into an old tale.
    After closing the garage, he returned to the kitchen, washed his hands, and joined Morgan, who had picked up the casserole and carried it to the dining room table. It was a lot like old times as he watched his wife move as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Will picked up from the counter Isaiah’s plate, which consisted of stage three baby foods,