A Marriage Takes Two by Janet Lane-Walters

homework.”
    “Who does? Your uncle and I used to argue with your dad all the time about doing ours. We never won.”
    “How come Dad got to boss you around?”
    “My mom worked so your grandmother watched me after school. She put your dad in charge of homework. He wouldn’t let us play until we finished.” She didn’t tell him that before long she’d done hers without a fuss to impress Tony.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Painting. Doesn’t it look nice?”
    “Dad know you’re doing this?”
    She turned and reached for the roller. “He said it was my house.”
    “Not.” His voice rose to a shrill pitch. “My mom says Dad bought this dump for her. Even if she doesn’t live here, it’s hers.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes, and she’ll hate what you’re doing. She’ll hate you, and she’ll hate Dad for marrying you.”
    Carrie stretched to reach the top of the wall. “There’s no reason for her to even think about me, or be upset with your dad. Isn’t she married to someone else?”
    “You and Dad aren’t really married. You don’t even kiss. That’s what married people do. ‘Sides, he’s only helping you ‘cause you’re his friend.” He grabbed the ladder.
    “Chad.” When the ladder rocked, she lost her balance. The roller flew from her hand. The paint pan tilted and paint splattered on the wall and pooled on the floor. Her foot slipped from the rung. She landed in a heap on the floor.
    Chad stared. “I didn’t mean...I only...Dad’s going to be mad...Are you hurt?”
    “I don’t think so. Hey, accidents happen.” She got to her feet and rubbed where her elbow had struck the marble floor.
    “Wasn’t an accident.” His lower lip quivered. “I was mad.”
    “And you acted before you thought.”
    “The wall’s a mess and the floor. I ruined them.”
    “Not if we clean the spill before it dries.”
    “But you gotta use that smelly stuff. Dad will know.”
    “Just soap and water will clean this paint.”
    “You gonna tell Dad?”
    “I think you should.”
    He looked at her. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
    She grasped his shoulder. “I used to do dumb things when I was a kid. Still do sometimes. Help me find a bucket and some rags. I’ll clean while you do your homework.”
    “I should help.”
    She looked at the puddle on the floor and the splashes on the wainscoting. “Unless you have pages and pages, there’ll be work left when you’re done.”
    “Just two. Spelling and math that’s ‘most done.”
    “Then let’s get moving.” Carrie followed him to the kitchen. In the pantry, she found some rags. Chad pulled a bucket from beneath the sink.
    After filling the pail, Carrie headed to the door. “See you in a few.”
    “Okay.” Chad opened his book-bag and began to work.
    She had cleaned the worst of the spill from the floor before Chad came to help. As they washed paint from the paneling, Tony strode into the house.
    “What happened?” he asked.
    “An accident,” Carrie said.
    Chad bolted for the stairs.
    Tony’s mouth tightened. “Chad.”
    The boy faced his father. Hunched shoulders proclaimed his guilt. “Was my fault. I got mad and shook the ladder.”
    “Homework done?” 
    Chad nodded.
    Tony turned to Carrie. “Thought you planned to paint your bedroom.”
    “I did, and I will, but you know me. The foyer was so gloomy and you said…” She cut off the remainder of her sentence. Those words had upset Chad and made him react. “I decided to start here. On Wednesday, we can do the bedroom. What do you think about turning the library into a family room?  My living room furniture would be perfect in here.”
    “Sounds good.” His smile faded. “Want to tell me about this accident?”
    She pursed her lips. “It’s not for me to tell.”
    Chad slumped on the stairs. “Don’t be mad at her. I shook the ladder ‘cause I didn’t think, just acted. Are you going to send me away?”
    Tony’s stomach roiled. Why would Chad think he