“A fishing trip?” I asked. “Now?”
“I told you about this two weeks ago,” Brandon said, his explanation coming in a rapid, practiced sequence. “You must have forgotten because of the baby schedule, but I definitely mentioned it.”
“You never mentioned a trip, Brandon,” I said. “We have the pediatrician appointment on Monday.”
“I did,” he said, nodding quickly as he checked his pockets. “I definitely did. We are staying through Monday, and I need this break or I am going to lose my mind at the office.”
I looked at the green canvas duffel bag, then at Brandon’s clean shoes.
“I cannot do this alone for four days,” I said. “The twins are too small, and I am already exhausted.”
“You have everything under control,” Brandon said, his hand reaching for his car keys on the counter. “My mother can come over if you get stuck.”
“Did you ask her?” I asked.
“No, but she will,” he said.
A heavy car horn sounded from the driveway, twice, loud and impatient through the front window.
