And Lydia?
She went purchasing items.
Subsequently to a mid-morning meal.
Subsequently to a wine establishment with companions.
She even published regarding it on Instagram.
Smirking photographic captures with mixed drinks.
Labels regarding “self-care” and “mom life balance.”
One publication literally stated, “Sometimes moms need to recharge!” with a depiction of her grasping a cocktail at two in the post-meridian.
Olivia did all the cooking, cleaning, chasing toddlers, and changing diapers, all with one arm in a sling.
I desired to remark, “And sometimes grandmas need to commit felonies,” but I possess more elegance than that.
I remained unaware any of this was transpiring until I performed a digital call to Olivia to inspect her condition.
She answered softly, and what I observed caused my lifeblood to reach a boil.
She was resting on the floor, pale and depleted, with both toddlers scrambling over her.
One was tugging at her support wrap.
The other was hurling cereal pieces at her visage like she constituted a fairground attraction.
Playthings were distributed everywhere.
There existed pulverized banana smeared upon the partition.
I didn’t know any of this was happening until I video-called Olivia.
“Sweetheart,” I stated cautiously, “where’s Lydia?”
“She said she needed a break.”
That was the instance something within me ruptured.
I finalized the communication, snatched my handbag, and mumbled beneath my breath, “Then let’s give her a break she’ll never forget.”
I did not contact Lydia.
I did not alert my male offspring.
I advanced directly to the lone location that still retained my command.
“Then let’s give her a break she’ll never forget.”
I entered Scott’s residence utilizing the instrument I had retained from when I previously possessed it.
That residence had been mine before I presented it as a gift to Scott and his initial partner.
I recognized every corner, every storage space, and every vibrating floor timber.
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