Anna Rodgers glanced down an aisle of books toward an empty chair. Good. A quiet place to read. She glanced at her watch. There's fifteen minutes left of my lunch break. I should be able to finish this chapter. After eyeing the aisle again, she read while walking toward the chair.

"Ugh!" A man's eyes widened as he stared at the young woman who tripped over his feet and plopped into his lap.

"I'm sorry." Anna wiggled to rise, but her legs didn't reach the floor. She scanned the area for a place to put her hands for leverage.

"Patience. I'll help." He removed the book from her hand. "Hum, A Guide to Divorce."

"Please, sir," she interrupted. "I'm not comfortable on your lap."

The man set the book on the arm of the chair. "Sorry, but I'll need to touch you as I lift." He gripped her waist, then helped her until her feet touched the floor. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Troy Whitman, and you are?"

"Anna Rodgers, I'm sorry. I should watch where I'm walking. I am so embarassed."

"It's not every day a pretty woman drops into my lap." He stood and rubbed his chin. "Matter-of-fact, I think this is the first time." A grin erupted across his lips. "Your book, ma'am." He held it out for her.

"Thank you." She forced a smile and took the offered book as she watched him sit. "If you don't mind, I'll sit over here and finish reading before I return to work." She sat in a chair across from him and raised the book to cover her face.

Anna took deep breaths, hoping to mask the embarrassment. She sneaked a peek around the book and studied him. He's close to six-foot, brown hair, and big blue eyes. I wonder what he does for a living. Maybe he sits around the bookstore all day hitting on women. Probably; he's a guy. Anna sighed and returned to reading.

*****
Anna glanced at her watch. "Darn! It's later than I thought." She jumped up and stared at the book in her hand. If I set it back on the shelf, I'll be late. She glanced around the area.

"Would it help if I put the book away for you? I have another thirty minutes before I'm needed at work." Troy stood and reached for it.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask, I offered." He took it from her. "Now hurry, nice to meet you."

As Anna reached the door, she turned and glanced toward Troy, who waved. She returned it, then rushed from the building. She walked down the sidewalk and sighed. Why did I wave at him? I'm married. Far from happily married, but married. I have a son.

*****
Anna set the diaper bag and her purse on the cement as she shifted her six-month-old son to her right hip. She jiggled the knob of the front door. Frustrated, she called, "Bobby, I can't budge this thing. Can you help me?"

"Damn it, woman, can't you do anything right? What the hell is your problem?"

After a few minutes, the wooden door opened. "Thank you. Maybe we need a new one." She entered and set Michael in the center of the living room floor, before going back for the diaper bag and purse.

"We don't need a new handle. You need to learn how to use one. What's for dinner?"

"Chicken, I'll start it as soon as I change Michael. How was your day?"

"You'd better hurry. I'm starving. You didn't leave enough lunch. What do you think I do all day, goof-off? I work hard. Do you think it's easy busting my back fixing cars all day? Can't you even leave a decent lunch?"

Anna walked to the kitchen with a dirty diaper. "As soon as I wash my hands, I'll start dinner. I'm sorry. I thought there was enough leftover roast. There will be enough chicken for tomorrow."

*****
As she put the first piece of breaded chicken in the hot oil, Michael cried. "Bobby, would you please get the baby. I need to get this in the skillet."

"Do I have to do everything? Woman, what do you do?"

"Never mind, I'll get him." She dropped a thigh in the oil and the grease splattered on her arm. "Ouch!"

"Here's your damn kid, clumsy." He set Michael on the kitchen floor. "I'm going out. Dinner better be done, before I return." Bobby slammed the door as he left.

After deep breaths and wiping tears streaming down her cheeks, Anna lifted the crying infant to her breast and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry, little one. Mommy will get you out of this mess as soon as I can."

*****
When Anna heard the rumble of Bobby's truck, she rolled over and glanced at the clock. It's two-thirty. Maybe he'll think I'm asleep. She pulled the covers to her neck and turned on her side away from the door. The sound of his boots thudding and stumbling on the linoleum floor caused her to wince. He's drunk again.

"Bitch, where's my dinner!" he bellowed from the hall.

"Shhh, you'll wake Michael. Your plate's in the fridge." She stood in the bedroom door as she pulled the tie of the tattered terrycloth robe around her slender waist. "It'll only take a few minutes to reheat." After setting the microwave, she turned toward Bobby. "I'm going back to bed. I'll see you when I get home from work."

He grabbed her arm just above the wrist. "I want you to stay with me."

"I can't. I get up at five-thirty. I need some sleep."

He squeezed and twisted her arm, then sneered, "I think we need to spend some quality time getting it on." He yanked open her robe.

"Bobby, stop. You're going to wake Michael."

As her husband slathered wet sloppy kisses down her neck, Anna closed her eyes. Within minutes, Anna heard soft whimpers from the baby's room which quickly turned to cries.

Thank you, God, for waking Michael up on cue. With her hands on Bobby's chest, Anna pushed herself from his grip. Without glancing back, she said, "I'll see what he wants."

"Damn kid."

Anna lifted Michael from his bed. After a clean diaper and a kiss to his cheek, she laid him in the crib and covered him. Anna glanced toward the door. I can't go back to my bed. Bobby will be there within the hour. I'll sleep here. She curled up on the floor beside the crib and pushed her right arm between a slat, rubbing Michael's back. Anna soon fell into a restless sleep.