TM: Weather
Lightning shot across the sky and the clap of thunder that followed fast on its heels was strong enough, loud enough to make the house shake. Laine rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and counted. One, two, three-and there it was, the baby’s displeased and frightened howl. So much for getting the wash folded.
She got up from the couch with a groan and headed for the staircase. This was only the third trip in the last forty minutes or so. Every time she managed to sooth, calm and get the baby back to sleep, the new mother had just enough time to settle herself back into her task before the weather had her daughter awake and crying.
“Mother Nature is one hell of a bitch, sugar.” She muttered the words before she reached the doorway to the nursery, telling herself that it didn’t count as swearing in front of the baby if there was a threshold between them. Besides, Anrai wasn’t in the house to hear her with his ever so sharp púca ears…
“Hush now, pretty baby. You ain’t getting’ no sleep and Mama ain’t getting’ anythin’ done around the house.” When she leaned over the crib to scoop up the infant, the light in the room flickered and the hum of the central air unit died with a slow rattle. The power was out. “And now we’re both goin’ to slow roast up here cause it is hot as Hades outside today.”
Not that Laine MacEibhir had any intention of staying up on the second floor of the house on a miserable gray summer afternoon. Mother and child wound up back in the living room, baby in nothing but a diaper and Mama with a glass of ice water. The laundry kept to itself in a wrinkling heap at one end of the sofa. When Anrai came back up to the house, soaked to the skin, she threw a towel at him along with a question.
“Is it rainin’ out there, darlin’? You look a little wet.”
Laine MacEibhir//Flint Creek Ranch//341
She got up from the couch with a groan and headed for the staircase. This was only the third trip in the last forty minutes or so. Every time she managed to sooth, calm and get the baby back to sleep, the new mother had just enough time to settle herself back into her task before the weather had her daughter awake and crying.
“Mother Nature is one hell of a bitch, sugar.” She muttered the words before she reached the doorway to the nursery, telling herself that it didn’t count as swearing in front of the baby if there was a threshold between them. Besides, Anrai wasn’t in the house to hear her with his ever so sharp púca ears…
“Hush now, pretty baby. You ain’t getting’ no sleep and Mama ain’t getting’ anythin’ done around the house.” When she leaned over the crib to scoop up the infant, the light in the room flickered and the hum of the central air unit died with a slow rattle. The power was out. “And now we’re both goin’ to slow roast up here cause it is hot as Hades outside today.”
Not that Laine MacEibhir had any intention of staying up on the second floor of the house on a miserable gray summer afternoon. Mother and child wound up back in the living room, baby in nothing but a diaper and Mama with a glass of ice water. The laundry kept to itself in a wrinkling heap at one end of the sofa. When Anrai came back up to the house, soaked to the skin, she threw a towel at him along with a question.
“Is it rainin’ out there, darlin’? You look a little wet.”
Laine MacEibhir//Flint Creek Ranch//341