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Some men just have a lot inside, and I contemplated this as I scrubbed my kitchen floors. I think this because my husband was a complex man. He had a lot going on in that head, especially yesterday. I wrung my sponge out, cursing at myself for leaving a mess overnight.
Ben had always told me I procrastinated, which I sure had gotten a few bruises for. But that was in the past. I picked up my bucket and dumped it down the sink. What a shame, the mess wasn’t just in the kitchen and I’d have to clean in the living room too. I really had made a mess. If only Ben could see me now! Hair pinned up and covered in stains. He’d have a fit. It was such an enigma how someone's temper could blow so fast, but not everyone can hold that back as long as a woman. Certainly not as long as me.
Ben and I were different, always had been. I poured some salt on the carpet stains and brought in a fresh bucket of water. I scrubbed red out of that ugly beige color Margret insisted Ben would love. He didn’t.
Well, the carpet stains won’t come out, so I might as well just finish up the dishes and start my job hunt. Ben had been the main source if income, and now I can’t afford the babysitter. Not that I’d hire the same one, not after Ben turned that last young girl into a woman.
I turned on the faucet. Yes, Ben and I had been different. He was short tempered, and I was good at hiding those unlady like emotions. He was a slob and I was good at cleaning dirty knives. He wasn’t evil, don’t get me wrong, he just had a big mouth and no self control. He only hit hard when his drinking problem reared its ugly head.
It struck me I hadn’t picked up my little Barb from her friends house. I stepped over Ben's body and grabbed his car keys.