Honey, I’m Home
By Michael P. Thomas
“Do you love him?”
“What?”
“‘What?’ Like all the background noise is so distracting?” We’re the only people in the park, and under a tree a quarter-mile from even the sparse passing traffic. We can practically hear the footsteps of the ladybug we’re watching make her way across my knee. “Do you love him?”
Among Andrea’s more annoying qualities are her can-do approach to shoveling her way through any pile of bullshit I may try to hide behind, and her subsequent insistence on hearing the truth and nothing but the truth. I’m always telling her she missed her calling as a therapist. She says if a therapist has to listen to the kinds of things I consider problems all day long then she’s just fine where she is behind the deli counter, thank you very much
