Tough

The car-keys rattled in Heather's trembling fingers as she struggled to hang them on the hook by the front door. Her rain jacket, dripping wet, collapsed on a nearby chair. The dank smell of mud permeated the nostrils of the children huddled around the fire by the television, who turned around with crinkled noses to greet their mother. Their hair whipped back with the wind and flashed with a burst of lightning before Heather rushed to shut the door, somewhat silencing the howling thunder as well.

"I can't stand Aiden and Hailey for another minute!" Natalie yelled at her mother and stormed upstairs. Heather wiped a few drops of water from her forehead and set down her rain boots on the doormat. She turned her attention to Aiden and Hailey, who were sitting on the rug and looking at her with enlarged pupils. Sighing, Heather subdued the roaring television cartoons by repeatedly hitting the volume button marked with a downwards arrow on the remote control. On the screen, a yellow sea-sponge and his pink starfish friend talked to each other more quietly now, but the whimpering of Hailey in the living-room became more apparent.

"Now what's wrong?" Heather asked, as she flipped the light switch on. Previously, the only source of light in the room was the glow of the television set. "What happened to your sister?"

"She's just trying to talk to someone on the phone," Aiden complained. "Hailey's always crying! How am I s'posed to finish my homework with all this noise?"

"Oh, Aiden, honey, why didn't you go to your room?"

"I could still hear them upstairs, Mom! I just came downstairs to help Natalie. I put the TV on," Aiden announced triumphantly, glancing at Hailey. "See how quiet she is now!"

"Oh, she's just hungry, sweetie," Heather lifted Hailey and held the toddler in her arms. "Did Natalie feed her the applesauce and crackers like I said?"

"Do you think she did?" Aiden sassed his mother. Then, noticing her distress, he quickly amended his response, "No, Mom, she didn't. I would've if I knew!"

"I know," Heather smiled at Aiden. "Natalie! Come down right now."

"I'm busy, Mom!" Natalie's voice floated down the stairs to her mother's ears, and though it was quiet, it was still revealed the cheeky attitude of Heather's sixteen-year-old daughter.

Heather exhaled deeply and treaded into the kitchen. The bright green digits above the oven would read nine o'clock in a few minutes; the kids still had to eat dinner, assemble their back-packs, and get into bed. Another late night. But her boss still wouldn't understand—if she wanted to get a raise, she'd have to prove herself. Would she have to lose everything she was working for before she did?

Her fridge, stacked with frozen pizzas and pastas, tempted her to tug on its handle. Remnants of breakfast, the frying pan on the stove and bread crumbs on the counter demanded to be washed and cleaned, respectively. And the cookbook on the shelf condoned her for the terrible mother she believed she had become, begging to serve the children a fresh meal. Tomorrow, I will, she said to herself. Tomorrow is Friday. I can stay up tomorrow if I must. I will cook these kids a good meal.

Three cardboard trays of macaroni and cheese heated up in the microwave (one at a time, of course), peas and diced carrots boiled in a pot over the stove, and frozen chicken nuggets fried in hot oil in the pan from breakfast. Meanwhile, a cup of coffee Heather had picked up on the way home from work began to cool down on the counter, its steam gradually disappearing. Heather didn't notice.

"Aiden, can you please tell your sisters to come for dinner?" Heather called, laying plates of food down on the mesh placemats of the dining table. She poured apple juice into two of the plastic cups and water into the third; Natalie despised the former.