The yellow plastic bottle brush slipped from Clara’s hand and splashed into the soapy water, sending suds over the rim of the kitchen sink. She did not reach for it, but stood still, staring down at her wet fingers as they began to tremble.
I turned off the faucet, the sudden silence in the kitchen highlighting the low hum of the baby monitor on the counter. Our son had finally fallen asleep upstairs twenty minutes ago, but the tension in our colonial home in Elmwood had not quieted down.
Clara wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach, her posture curved as if she were trying to occupy as little space as possible.
“My head feels so heavy, Daniel,” she whispered, her voice barely carrying over the hum of the refrigerator.
I grabbed a clean dish towel and gently wiped her hands, noticing how cool her skin felt despite the warm morning air. On the windowsill sits the white pill bottle from the pharmacy, its cap slightly crooked.
“Did you take your morning dose with breakfast?” I asked, clearing my throat before the words came out.
“I think so,” she said, her eyes drifting toward the backyard where the autumn leaves were beginning to gather near the old stone pot.
I picked up the white pill bottle to tighten the lid, and as I turned it in my hand, the small plastic container rattled. Through the translucent amber plastic, I caught a glimpse of the tablets inside. Most of them were the flat, circular shape of her regular blood pressure prescription, but a few looked slightly thicker, their edges more rounded than the rest.
I set the bottle back down on the counter, rubbing my left wedding ring with my thumb as I always did when my chest began to tighten.
Upstairs, the third step creaked, a familiar sound that meant my mother was coming down to help with the laundry.
By ten o’clock, the smell of chamomile tea had filled the nursery, though the cup my mother brewed for Clara sat untouched on the dresser. My mother, Martha, was standing by the crib, folding a stack of tiny yellow onesies with precise, crisp hospital corners.
