OPENED THE DOOR AFTER A LONG DAY AT WORK – AND FOUND SIX OF MY HUSBAND’S RELATIVES SETTLED IN COMFORTABLY, WAITING FOR DINNER. I SMILED POLITELY, WALKED TO THE BEDROOM AND CLOSED THE DOOR BEHIND ME. I HAD NO INTENTION OF COOKING – I’D ALREADY EATEN ON THE WAY HOME…

Onions.

Something heavy.

Something that was going to take at least an hour.

“I’m just going to change,” I said pleasantly.

I walked to the bedroom.

I closed the door.

I sat on the edge of the bed in the half-dark and took off my shoes and held them in my lap for a moment.

The television was audible through the wall.

The smell of onions was stronger than I would have liked.

I had eaten.

I was tired.

I had spent the last three hours managing other people’s pain and distress professionally and competently.

And I had nothing left.

Absolutely nothing.

For the performance required of the woman who has just come home to find six uninvited relatives installed in her living room and is expected to be delighted about it.

I put my shoes neatly by the wardrobe.

I changed into comfortable clothes.

I opened my nightstand drawer and took out the novel I was in the middle of.

I got into bed, propped the pillow against the headboard, and began to read.