Free CABERNET ZIN (Cabernet Zin Wine Country) by J Gordon Smith Page B

you want to do.”
    “I’m not doing that.”
    “Every time we are together you want to fight.”
    “I’m exhausted with all of this.” Lydia flipped a blanket over herself.
    “I have to check the noodles,” Zack left for the kitchen.
    Lydia picked up her tablet computer and plugged in the ear buds.
    “Kids, dinner is ready!” Zack poured the sauce from the jar over the kid’s noodles.
    Lydia strolled out to the kitchen as the children sat in their chairs giggling about having spaghetti, “Why don’t you ever heat up that sauce?”
    “You can microwave yours if you like. Do you think I have much enthusiasm when you dampen everything with arguments and yelling?”
    Zack’s phone rang, “Hello?” He nodded, “Yes. How about in ten minutes?” He looked at the kids eating their dinner and joking with each other, “Yeah. That will work.”
    “Who was that?”
    “My client in Mexico wants to conference call.”
    “On Saturday?”
    “You had to work earlier today. It should be less than half an hour call.”
    “When you have time to be with your family, you let me know,” Lydia slid her plate off the counter, went out to the living room, and ate in front of the television.
    Zack wanted to remind her that the month before she sat with earphones on and the tablet. She resented that he didn’t have a regular job. She resented that when he worked he used his basement office for his video conference calls. An old desktop computer that anchored itself to his desk and the wall plug. Even if it was not an eight year old desktop computer, something modern like a laptop or tablet, he still needed to be in a separate room because of the conference call. They could see through the camera and he needed to block all the sounds of his kids. Lydia seemed to have forgotten about chasing Grace for her glasses. Grace played in her room building with her plastic mini-dolls and Noah spilled out his box of blocks and built a multi-winged fighter plane. Zack smiled at the kids who didn’t see him checking on them. He descended the stairs to his basement office.
     
    -:-:-:-O-:-:-:-
     
    The mass of children hurtled out of the school. Noah ran from the building, his hair bent back from his forehead. Grace trudged along at a slower pace carrying papers and dragging her backpack.
    “Noah, why are you crying?”
    “I’m ok, Dad.”
    “No, you better tell me.”
    “Well … these older boys picked on me during extra recess today.”
    “What happened?”
    “I want to talk with Mom,” he wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Is she home from work yet?”
    “Not yet. You can tell me you know.”
    Noah nodded.
    “Daddy, here’s my homework,” Grace thrust the paper at him. He took it and pulled them along to his car.
     
    -:-:-:-O-:-:-:-
     
    “What happened today, Noah?” Lydia asked as she helped him into his pajamas.
    His words rolled out of his mouth in a stream.
    “Slow down, Noah.”
    “An older boy was picking on me and shoving me.”
    Lydia asked, “What are you doing to incite the bully? It has to be your fault somehow.”
    “I don’t know.” he moaned.
    Zack said, “Bullies attack kids they see are weak.” Zack held up his open palm to Noah, “Show me how you throw a punch. Right here at my hand.”
    Noah brought his fist back.
    “Don’t put your thumb in your fist.”
    Lydia said, “– We don’t want the kids fighting.”
    “They need to learn to fight their whole lives – whether with their fists, their voices, or their minds.” Zack patted his palm, “Put one right there.”
    Noah struck his fist at Zack’s palm.
    “Again. Keep your wrist straight. One continuous line from your elbow to your knuckles.”
    “I asked you not to do that Zack.”
    “He needs to know this.” Zack said. “Try the other fist. Good. One Two. Great. Now, Noah,” he held Noah’s arms and looked him straight in his eyes. “I want you not to take it. You fight if you have to, not first, but don’t take