I'm Not Taking the Long Way Home Again

"What are you doing, Zoe Sutton?"

Simon Zane blocked the doorway, frowning. Then he spotted the scattered pages of the plan for choosing our new home, and his expression turned to one I knew well: Here we go again.

"Wendy's all alone in this city. I wanted her to feel at home. You're jealous of that too? What's the big deal about traveling a few extra miles every day?"

What's the big deal? I laughed.

Today was the fifth time I'd been late to work this month. I'd gotten up at five, spent an hour and a half commuting, and still arrived ten minutes late because of traffic.

On the way back, I drove through a downpour, and after three or four turns in quick succession, my car nearly gave out. Day after day, it was the same.

Wendy Brooks, meanwhile, could walk to work in thirteen minutes. Her favorite breakfast spots and dessert shops lined the route. She could sleep until eight and still have time to spare.

As the standoff dragged on, Wendy stepped in as she always did. "He's just scared you're going to run away. Come on, don't make a fuss. I'll order you something to eat."

She found my favorite restaurant on her phone, but the app said we were outside its delivery area. Twenty miles away.

"What should we do?" Wendy asked, looking troubled.

Simon took my bag and pulled out his phone. "If they won't deliver here, there's nothing we can do. We'll order from somewhere else."

The food arrived ten minutes later, and Wendy's eyes lit up. "You really came through! How did you know what I like? Hardly anyone knows about this place."

Simon gave a small smile but said nothing. Every dish in the five takeout containers was red with chilies. Wendy loved spicy food. I couldn't handle even a little.

I put down my chopsticks and got up to leave. Simon rushed over and caught my arm. "Your stomach will hurt if you don't eat. Stop making a fuss and have a little."

I looked at him. "I can't eat spicy food. Did you forget?"

He paused, then tried to recover. "Pick out the chilies. Rinse the food in cold water, and it won't be spicy. Don't make Wendy worry over nothing."

He was reaching to pick out the chilies for me when Wendy dropped into my ergonomic chair. "Come on! I'm waiting for you to play."

"Yeah, coming." Simon immediately set down his chopsticks and went to her.

Wendy leaned back in the chair. "This is so comfortable."

Even with two cushions, I'd never been comfortable in it. Apparently, the chair wasn't my size.

My phone chimed with a message from Mom: [It's a long, difficult drive at night. Maybe you two shouldn't make the trip.]

I looked at Simon and Wendy on the couch, their heads close together as they played, and typed back: [Mom, it's not far. I'll come by myself. I want to discuss working overseas with you both.]