“Okay, now add the cheese!” Jason’s voice carried from the kitchen.
“More cheese!” Nicole yelled, delighted.
I walked toward the sound and stopped in the doorway. The house looked different.
The counters were spotless. Three baskets of folded laundry sat stacked on the table. A chore chart, hand-drawn and slightly crooked, was taped to the refrigerator.
The counters were spotless.
“Mommy!” Nicole ran over and wrapped herself around my legs. “You’re early!”
“What is going on in here?” I asked, looking around at a kitchen I barely recognized.
Then I saw why.
“We’re making pizza,” Jason said, wiping his hands on a towel, smiling in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time.
“But the house,” I muttered, looking around in disbelief. “It’s beautiful.”
“I told you I had it under control,” he said, winking.
“What is going on in here?”
***
For one sharp, ungenerous second, something in my chest twisted.
If he’d done this easily, what did that make 11 years of me?
“You mastered this in five days,” I said, my voice catching. “I feel completely replaced.”