The Wound
Home for the day.
Puck made himself busy with blocks and stuffed animals that morning. At some point, Collette brought out the laundry basket and put him in it. He had his very own boat. She put his blocks in with him.
“Mix up the block soup for the sailors, Puck. Mix it up.” she told him. “The sailors are hungry.”
Puck tossed around the blocks and chewed on the rubber handle of the ladle which Collette had also given him.
After shewermas for lunch, as close to the kind they had been served in Jerusalem as possible, Carrie-Bri, Rose, and Linnea dropped in. Mom was at the McCrae’s. Joe was at class. And Frances was at the RecPlex. Carrie left shortly after arriving to meet Lucia for lunch. Rose had purportedly been brought over so that Collette could help her with her online class.
“Yow!” she exclaimed on several occasions during the afternoon.
“What did you do?” Collette asked her.
She pointed to her heel. The skin had been rubbed off, rather deep.
“How did that happen?”
“Those shoes Linnea bought me for Christmas. I like them, but that’s what they did!”
“Wear band-aids next time.”
“I am. I like your house because I don’t have to worry about dog hair flying into my wound. Do you have anything I can snack on?”
“No, Rose, you are not going to eat their food,” Carrie told her.
Carrie did bring back a taco each for the girls, which seemed to satisfy their appetites, temporarily. Meanwhile, Rose was in the middle of her studies.
“I thought you said this would take me three days,” Rose laughed.
“Well, it would if you were actually reading the material,” Collette said.
“I don’t need to. I know it all already. Watch. I’ll take this practice exam.”
Shortly later…
“What did you get on it?”
“Oops.”
“Take it again.”
For the evening, Collette put enchiladas in the oven and took her walk in the sleet and rain, which had calmed a bit.