“What were you thinking in there?” Catherine was almost whispering, even though she and Willard were at the opposite end of the house from the boys.
Willard shrugged and sipped his coffee. “I didn’t think it really mattered that much. Just this once.”
Catherine shook her head. “But after they were punished for fighting over the game…”
“Punished?”
“Having to put it away like that. We’ve never done that before. We’ve always given them at least one more chance. Then knuckling under to Sams…”
“Knuckling under?”
Catherine started. She heard anger in Willard’s voice, not right at the surface yet, but there nonetheless.
She reached out and laid her hand on his.
“Willard, what’s wrong? This isn’t like…”
“Nothing,” he said curtly. Then he took a deep breath and sighed. “Nothing, really. I guess I was just tired. First that horrendous trip home-the freeway was like glass, the rain was so hard that the wipers could barely keep up, and red lights kept flashing right and left like crazy. There were so many cars jammed together that it seemed like there had to be a roadblock or an accident somewhere up ahead, but there never was, just car after car after car creeping along like slugs.
“Then the garage door not working when I got home, and me getting drenched like that. And then the cracks…”
“Sweetie, don’t…”
Willard’s hand slammed against the table top. “Dammit, don’t tell me to…”
Startled at the hurt expression in her eyes, he stopped, placed his hand over hers, and sighed.
“It’s like all of a sudden everything is going wrong. The kids arguing like that, us arguing, the rain…and this house, falling apart and we haven’t even been in it three months. And that creep Maxwell shrugging it off like it was nothing.
“We were cheated! And then he just blows us off like it was nothing. ‘The house isn’t going to fall in any time soon. Maybe in forty or fifty years, but not tomorrow.’
“Right. Only it isn’t his kids that have to live in it, his wife that… I feel like a total failure.”
“Willard.”
He looked at Catherine, suddenly realizing that he was holding his breath in…anger? No, fury. He had never felt this way in his life, so impotent, so helpless, so…so cheated! Screwed!
“It’s not worth it, honey. Not tonight. There’s nothing we can do right now. Tomorrow we’ll call the county inspector or something, get someone out here who can help us. It will all work out. You know it will.”
Willard took several deep breaths. “Okay. You’re right. Maybe tomorrow everything will look better. Maybe the rain will stop.”