She rolled over and realized that he wasn’t beside her. She sat up. Light was shining down the hall from the kitchen. She got up and pulled on her robe.
He was standing at the counter, kneading bread dough.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “It’s one in the morning.”
“Lyle isn’t home yet,” he said. “I couldn’t sleep. I figured I might as well do something productive.”
“It’s Homecoming,” she reminded him. “He said they would probably go out for breakfast.”
“I know, but I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “What do you think? Should I shape this into bread loaves or cinnamon rolls?”
She moved to put her arms around him and leaned her cheek against his back. “Cinnamon rolls, I think. Shall we use the real butter?”
He turned his head, smiling at her. “We?”
She grinned. “I’m wide awake now. I might as well do something productive.”
Copyright ©2013 Loretta Miles Tollefson