Five Minute Friday: Red

I don’t get a great deal of alone time at home.  Usually when the kids are at school, I am at school, so last week when I found myself working at home for a couple hours in the afternoon, it seemed strange.  After mixing and kneading and shaping my hamburger buns, I stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes.  The largish plate glass window above the sink overlooks the backyard garden, and even though winter will soon be winding up here, the flowers are in full bloom.

I moved to grab a dish towel and when I glanced back up, I saw a flash of red – my daughter was coming up the hill toward the back door.

I smiled and my insides got all happy.

My sweet oldest has a bright, solid red hoodie, purchased in California when we were on furlough last year.  Somehow it was colder than we’d expected when we arrived in LA in March.  She chose red, and as she wears it nearly every day, I usually have little trouble spotting her in a crowd.  

She has endured numerous references to a certain basket-wielding, grandmother-seeking fairy tale character, generally either sporting a snarky adolescent grin or staring blankly, lips pursed in a straight line in a look that says, “Seriously?  Can’t you do better than that?”

I had relished the time alone, but somehow knowing she was coming made my heart leap.  It would be just me and her here … a phenomenon perhaps more rare than my being here alone.

I continued to wipe and put away the dishes, expecting the back door to open at any moment.

But, the moment never came.

I leaned slightly over the sink again and saw the flash of colour again – in the same spot - this time recognizing its shape as that of this bunch of amaryllis.

The corners of my mouth, and my heart, fell.

Maybe next time.

Written in conjunction with a community of bloggers who meet virtually over Lisa Jo Baker’s weekly Five Minute Friday prompt.  Click the button above to find out more or join in.