No Weapon Formed (Boaz Brown) Read Free Page A

so
I wouldn’t have to throw a donut back there.
    Stelson started in again.
“This is the kind of morning I want to avoid. You’re rushed, the kids are
rushed. We can’t even enjoy a game of tickling—you won’t even go get your
foot X-rayed because it’s go-go-go.”
    “No. It’s go-go-go because I
didn’t have an alarm clock. And the reason I didn’t have an alarm clock is
because you were snoring so loud I had to leave the bedroom in a rush,
which is also the reason why I hurt myself.” I knew better than to tell him the
whole truth—that my toe was a bit worse than “hurt”.
    “I’m sorry about last night,”
he apologized.
    “I know you don’t mean to
keep me up. It’s just…I can’t get any sleep when you snore. That wouldn’t
change if I stopped working.”
    “I don’t like sleeping with
the TV on, either, but I’ve learned to work around it.”
    “TV is background noise.
Snoring is…invasive.”
    My left foot grazed the
bedroom covers, which alarmed me. Maybe Stelson was right. Maybe I should
stay home, prop my foot up, and protect it from the likes of 700 high school
students who might be roughhousing in the hallways and accidentally step on my
toe, which would cause temporary insanity, thereby making me knock the fire out
of somebody.
    Note to self: Stay in the
office today by any means necessary.
    I balanced myself on one leg
and bent over in the closet to retrieve the purple foldable slippers I usually
reserved for clean-up after a long day of activities at church. The satin,
barely-there shoes were the only option for my swollen foot. Hopefully. But
seeing as I couldn’t actually put them on in Stelson’s presence without him
inspecting the damage, I crammed them into my Louis Vuitton bag and slung it
over my shoulder.
    “My work is part of my
ministry. We’ve already discussed this. ”
    “What about your ministry at
home? To me and the kids? ”
    “Am I not a great wife and
mother?” I challenged him. “I mean, I’m up sometimes all night with Zoe. If not
with Zoe, with you snoring. And Seth...God knows he drains me to the very last
milligram of my patience sometimes. ”
    Stelson eased toward me.
    “Watch the foot,” I warned.
    He planted a kiss on my nose
as he caged my waist in his arms. “Honey, you’re a great wife. An exceptional
mother. And I know the kids and teachers at Plainview High School are more than
blessed because of your service as an assistant principal. You gotta look
around, though.”  He threw his glance at our unmade bed, at the stack of
clothes on the ottoman, and the shoes strewn across the scraped hardwood floor.
    “Hey. You’ve got two hands,
too,” I reminded him.
    “It’s not just the mess. It’s
the fast food. It’s you. You’re always stressed. The kids get what’s left of
you after work,” he listed.
    “I know. I told you, I’ve got
some people lined up to interview. A personal chef and a housekeeper. I just
have to find someone I trust enough to leave alone in our home,” I reminded
him.
    He squeezed my behind. “And I’m
not getting enough of you.”
    I pulled back. “Is that what
this is about? Sex?”
    An exaggerated frown
appeared. He nodded. “That’s part of it. A BIG part of it.”
    “We just did it before you
left. Thursday night,” I refreshed his memory.
    “Yeah, and now it’s Monday,”
he said.
    “And? Can I help it if you
weren’t actually here?”
    “No, but when I come back
from a trip, I would like some time alone with you,” he said with a tad bit too
much machismo for my taste. And yet, his puppy-dog eyes and the soft lines in
his forehead gave him a distinctly desperate expression that outweighed my
annoyance. Can’t blame a man for wanting to have sex with his wife.
    “Okay, okay. You win.”
    His eyes squinted. “I don’t
want to win, Shondra. I want us both to win—which, coincidentally, is not
what happened Thursday night.”
    He had a point. Lord knows I
was tired Thursday night. Just