The front door opened. Marcus stepped inside with his college book bag. He smiled at his family.
Six kids came running from every room. They piled onto Marcus's legs like puppies. 'Daddy's home!' they cheered.
When Marcus set the kids down, he rubbed his leg. He pretended it didn't hurt. 'I'm okay,' he said.
Marcus studied at the kitchen table. The kids asked for help with homework. He tried to focus on his books.
Marcus flipped pancakes but burned them black. 'I got this,' he said. His voice sounded thin in the noisy kitchen.
Marcus promised his wife they'd visit the garden on Saturday. That was where they first held hands. But he overslept.
His wife waited by the garden gate with a picnic basket. Marcus ran late. She closed the lid softly.
'You promised,' she said quietly. Marcus scuffed his shoes on the path. The garden looked beautiful behind her.
That evening, Marcus found his wife at the kitchen table. A small wooden cross sat between them.
'I can't do it all by myself,' Marcus said. 'I need help.' His wife took his hand.
They bowed their heads together. The next Saturday, they walked to the garden — slowly, holding hands.
The kids laughed in the grass. Marcus and his wife smiled. They were together again.