Sleep

She twitched, woke, and looked in the space between the worn curtains. Drifted off, won’t sleep tonight, she thought. She pushed the old green quilt off and herself out of the recliner toward the kitchen and knew there was less hurt in her back. She entered the little galley and turned on the stove and the faucet and filled the kettle. The teabag was open and in a cup without a thought.

What time was it? She looked at the clock. Not late enough to force herself to lie in bed. What had to be done tomorrow? The mail, the store, make calls? The kettle whistled. She poured the water and wondered about the girls. They get colds so much at that age. Maybe in two weekends. She’d call Deb tomorrow to plan. Not a hundred miles but always too hard to make it work. The idea of moving came again for the moment it took her to think would Deb like it, even Jimmy?

She poured and turned and her foot kicked the little dish on the floor. So she hurried back to the chair and sat and looked at her crossword and crochet and the television then stared at the floor for a long time and sipped. Supposed to make sleep come sooner but never does. Tom never liked tea. Could have coffee after dinner and still be asleep by ten every damn night. She used to resent it. She remembered staring at him. The kids tearing the house apart, Eric’s crazy dog barking, the bedwetting and laundry and school lunches and dishes and baths and fights over homework. And then it would be done for the night and the house would be quiet and she would lean back on the headboard and know it wouldn’t come. The room was always so silent and still except him breathing away like clockwork. She could have smothered him. Of course he’d never wanted anything crawling around at two in the morning. That’s how he put it.

Until it did come, in the apartment. The quiet was fine here. Worse aches and longer days and rolling and half waking but she finally slept. She pulled the quilt up over her lap and sighed. A few strands of gray caught her eye in the green threads so she pushed it back over the side of the chair to the carpet. Should vacuum and wash everything anyway. No point waiting around. Besides, she finally felt up to it. The knees, sure. But the back was better. Almost good for once. A week without shifting all night.

She drained her cup and set it down on the side table. Tomorrow. I’ll take care of it all tomorrow. The dish, the box, the dirty carpets. Its time. She stared at the wall and the darkness between the curtains. There was stillness and nothing to move for so she hoped to drift a while at least.