Carl puttered.
He'd gotten home with the expectation that he'd continue on with his usual Wednesday workday—finding it hard to believe it was still only Wednesday and not Friday, but then, he'd also just spent like, almost two…actually it really was about two weeks going by how freaking long game-days were and the ratio of roughly ten days of game-time to real-time, which was a calculation that he hadn't intended to do when he started out on this train of thought but that he'd already determined was thirteen and a third days, and thus, if it had been real-time and not the game's time scaling, it would still be a Wednesday—but now everything in his usual routine was disrupted.
Annie was home, and that was great. He hadn't worked from home that often lately given how overloaded he was with everything and how being physically present in the office made it easier to deal with certain tasks, but he enjoyed the times when he'd done it in the past, either during the summer or one of the week-long school breaks, and she'd been there lending her presence to the big, empty-ish house.
She was the best.
But now she'd made a Decision without him—which was absolutely something Carl was okay with and in favor of, as one of the things he loved most about his wife was her ability to be Annie and not someone else who needed his input or approval for every little thing—and he was sort of just trying to catch up mentally at this point without being too obvious about it.
He set the last stack of plates onto the shelf in the refrigerator and closed the door, shutting the dishwasher aft…
Carl paused.
He played back the last few seconds, faintly hearing the sounds of two feminine voices filtering down to him through the vents in the ceiling.
Yup, he'd just emptied the dishwasher into the fridge.
His eyes widened slightly, and he blew out a breath. Obviously what he'd been intending to do was empty the dishwasher into the cabinets like usual—and were these dishes even clean now that he thought about it more deeply?
Well, there was no way to know for sure, and he wasn't about to take a chance with something like this, of course, since it was something that could potentially affect his family's well-being.
He double-checked the cleanliness of the dishes by taking them back out of the fridge, feeling that this was vaguely similar in some way to the time he'd spent stacking in-game pottery however many game-weeks ago, and loaded them back into the dishwasher—though that name was somewhat of a misnomer, since it didn't actually do any washing due to the scarcity of non-commercial water sources in the current year and instead used a combination of the same friction pads he used at the sink to thoroughly wipe off debris from the specialized dishware and cookware they bought, air jets to blow away any remaining fragments of whatever was left, a lighter pad for a final wipe, and then UV lights to kill germs, with the whole thing automatically re-sanitizing itself between uses—for a run, which would only take a few minutes anyway.
A chime echoed from the front door, the tone signaling that a drone delivery had arrived. Thankful to have something to do that would take his mind off…
Well, he didn't really need to take his mind off anything, he just needed to figure out how things were going to work now.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
He was really feeling a bit off his game, and he didn't know why.
Carl turned the key on the package chute next to the door and opened it, revealing a paperboard box that was much smaller and differently-shaped than he'd expected from his grocery order, but he wasn't claiming to be any sort of expert on the ever-evolving state of shipping technology. No, he'd need to do a considerable amount of studying to reach that level, and it wasn't a field he was entirely sure warranted the time that could be better spent with Annie, or reading to learn new things for work or to prep himself for upcoming family-related events, or spending time with the girls…
Who were now maybe going to be three instead of two…
Back in the kitchen, he set to unboxing the groceries he'd ordered for that night's dinner. He dug his fingers into the paperboard at the marked spot and pulled, revealing several sets of plastic-wrapped panties and bras atop a few shirts and pairs of pants.
Carl blinked.
A feeling of dread began to set in as he stared blankly into the distance. He'd obviously just opened a package for one of the girls—based on his knowledge of what his wife tended to wear and the fact that these most certainly did not match her preferred style—and probably it was Sammy's, which meant she was going to be really mad and embarrassed since she now closed and locked the door to her room even when she was just putting her laundry away.
This was the inverse of a Dad Moment: a Dad Oops.
"Carl, did you already get th—Oh, I ordered those for Mina right after we got home," Annie said as she padded over to him. "What are you doing with it over here on the counter?"
He felt a hand settle onto his back and start to rub in a small circle, and he mumbled, "Thought it was my groceries." He let out a sigh.
"You okay? I know—Okay, I'm sorry I did this without talking to you first, but I thought—"
"No, it's not that," Carl said, one of the rare cases that he felt it was important to interrupt his wife, even though he knew how much she hated it from the times they'd hung out with Tim, who could be a little overbearing. "Just, uh…" He frowned. "I don't know exactly?"
Annie hugged him gently from the side, which absolutely aided his thought processes and helped him drill down to the core of whatever was bothering him.
He still didn't know how Mina had gotten here from wherever she'd been outside the game or how she'd won Annie over so thoroughly in such a short amount of time. It hadn't been the right moment to ask when he'd gotten home and found her here in an emotional state, and he'd been given the signal to remain downstairs while the two of them had a Talk, so probably that wasn't over yet since he hadn't gotten any signal to indicate to the contrary.
None of that bothered him, obviously. He was glad Mina was here, where she definitely wouldn't have to deal with any of the awful things that had been going on in her life. As a dad, he'd already gotten used to having her around over the past couple weeks, and it would've been weirder if she stopped being around, he felt.
Clearly there was something else that bothered him, but he was having a pretty tough time figuring out what that was.
"We'll talk later, alright?" Annie said as she pulled back to gather up the package of clothing.
Carl nodded, continuing to cogitate at maximum capacity.
"You're sure you're okay with this?"
He paused his thoughts for a moment and glanced over, noting the hint of worry on his wife's very pretty face. A face that seemed prettier every time he saw it.
What the heck was he even doing right now?
This wasn't how he, Carl Weathers, behaved around his family.
He smiled down at her and rested his hands on her shoulders, giving a slight squeeze. "I love you," he said as he stared into her eyes.
Annie sighed and gave him adoring look and a tilt of her head. "You're the best, Carl," she murmured before she puckered her lips and angled her face up towards him.