Once upon a time in my neck of the woods, there stands a house without much to separate it from those beside it. This house has a brick front like all the rest, and a black shingle roof tops this house as it does the other houses. Still, there is the goldenrod vinyl siding, so at least that separates this house from the others. 

Inside this house though, things could not be more different. A loving husband and a doting wife engage in a deadly strife to get the most out of their day. 

Orel, the husband, picks two plastic dolls from the lavender and leafy-green flannel rug. He holds them with the same care of separating boxes at the shipping warehouse. However, which doll goes into which box? Such a decision could cost him more than any at the warehouse though, because each figurine belongs to a different daughter. 

The weight of his decision carries his attention to the window at the far end of the sky-blue living room. Outside, gray clouds gather above a windy day. Orel’s mind clears from a sense of warmth from the living room. 

Orel appreciates the living room most on stormy days. The room feels lighter without having to compete with the sun. The lamps next to all the seats fill the room with a relaxing, warm light that beats anything the warehouse has come up with. 

With his mind clearer than the sky outside, he puts the dolls in separate boxes with a hope and a prayer. 

Then, in immediate contrast, there’s Patsy, the wife. She flows around the pumpkin-colored kitchen with her daisy and rose print skirt twisting around her every move. She dumps a pot of half-boiled macaroni noodles into the strainer in the metal sink before twirling back to the white stove. Her sun-stained hands swipe across an apple-colored apron and grabs a skillet with some ground beef. 

Patsy dances through her kitchen as spices and other ingredients accompany the ground beef into a mixing bowl. Her partners appear without thought as though she merely beckoned them to join, and they could not resist. The leaves scattering past the window at the far end defy her easy combination of ingredients. 

She revels in the combinations of cooking. New flavors always appear no matter how many times she cooks a dish, and the meals can even combine people in unexpected ways. Like the football team captain who found a new friend in the debate team captain on chili-day at the school cafeteria, which Patsy oversees. 

Back in the living room, Orel lumbers across the dark, hardwood floor in his jeans and college-team polo; It is Casual Friday after all. He sighs, delivering the last doll to the correct toy box. 

He could just as well be doing the same thing at work. Is he not simply clearing traffic lanes so others can use this space? His crew is bad about just dropping boxes in the first available space. Yet, he’s avoided an OSHA write-up at the warehouse. Such a claim would be impossible here. 

Regardless, Orel’d rather be nowhere else; the environment of home beats any warehouse by nine consecutive quarterly profits. Plus, the pay’s better: He’s not getting paid in movie nights with Patsy at the warehouse, and no one stages community dances with every available doll. Yep, this is surely better than another full day at the warehouse. 

Though, that does raise a question. “Hey, Patsy,” Orel calls, “How did you know?” 

Patsy’s dance never stops, but it does slow. The heap of casserole ingredients melts into the dish under Patsy’s meticulous hand. “How did I know what, dear?” She might as well have asked the casserole; she never looks up. 

“That I’d get a half-day off,” Orel answers with an armload of stuffed animals. He’s always had a hard time not wondering if this is what a zookeeper feels like – just strolling around looking at all the great variety of life. Blessedly, the animals all go into the same box; they are not as well off as the zoo animals with their own spaces. 

Patsy says, “You mentioned that the newest project might be finishing up, and I had a day off, so it was really more of a hope. Y’all have worked some long hours for that new customer, so I wagered on a half-day instead of a pizza lunch.” 

“Well, whatever the case, you’re absolutely great,” Orel says after one more delivery of stuffies. “I mean, look at you: Not only did you predict my half-day, but also you arranged a grandparent visit for the girls and are undoubtedly making a wonderful lunch. Thank you.” 

Orel’s final additions to the menagerie come from the sofa, which he imagines himself and Patsy filling for the rest of the day. Patsy keeps a running list of movies, and now, they have the chance to watch them. A warm living room with a possible autumn rain on the way and plenty of movies with the love of one’s life – Is there a better way to recover from a month of twelve-hour shifts? If there is, Orel wouldn’t know. 

The sound of a dropped dish snatches Orel’s attention back to the living room. Patsy says, “Oops,” with the same tone as a misspelled word in a term paper draft. She announces that everything is okay before placing the casserole in the oven. Even after five years, Orel’s gratitude catches her off guard. 

Patsy nods her head at the baking casserole before turning her attention to the vegetables. With herself recovered, she says, “Yeah, even I think lunch is going to be pretty great. Then, you get to decide where we go for dinner? 

The question inspires Orel to drop the living room rug, which he rolled up after stuffy duty. “You want to go out?” Orel asks after retrieving the rug. 

Patsy slows her knife in the middle of slicing squash. She can’t imagine another option. The children are gone; she and Orel could actually have a date night. She couldn’t remember the last one of those. “Yeah, with no children, we could make the most of this with a date night. Come on; when was the last time we left the house?” 

Orel huffs the rug onto his shoulder. That makes no sense. The only time he’s seen the house is to eat breakfast and sleep. Orel announces, “I’m taking the rug out; I’ll be back.” 

“Fine,” Patsy says and dumps the squash in a skillet. 

The rug takes the full brunt of Orel’s disappointment. Orel snaps the rug full length with one flick. A cozy day at home flies away with the crumbs of a hundred snack times. Without touching the ground, the rug jerks to the right. A night with nothing to do but gaze at a screen and hold Patsy disappears with a plume of dust. A flick to the left yields nothing more, like what Orel has for a night out.

He crashes through the back door, and the rug plops onto the floor. “Hey, Patsy, I was thinking that we could stay in tonight. You know? We could just chill the two of us; maybe catch up on some of those movies you wanted to watch. We could order a pizza.” 

Patsy flops the squash over in the skillet. She says, “Orel, look I get it: I know that you’re tired, but I’d really not like to stay here. Sure, you’ve had a lot of long days, but so have I with you working so late. So, let’s have a night out to get away from both our cares.”

“I really think a quiet night would serve us better,” Orel states after seizing the broom from the closet down the emerald hallway. He continues while sweeping the living room: “It’s been a long time since it’s just the two of us. So, let’s make the most of today with a movie marathon. Besides, you told me to decide.”

Patsy’s shoulders sag after opening the refrigerator. The walls creak in the wind, and Patsy gains an understanding of the candle inside a pumpkin as it collapses after Halloween. Another night looking at these walls stops Patsy’s dance, at last. 

Plus, there’s no way that they can follow this meal with pizza, according to Patsy’s thoughts. She tosses the fruit salad bowl on the counter. “Yes, I did say that, and you still do. We can go to Los Cantino or Jerry’s Shoppe – You decide.

Orel leans on the broom as he returns it to the closet, reaching for the Swiffer. It might as well be a pallet of bricks. His feet shuffle back down the hallway after attaching a pad. Orel’s whole body moves to shove the mop around the room. 

At the halfway point, Orel braces himself against the Swiffer. Can he even finish the living room? He pleads, “Please, couldn’t things just be simple for once?” Then, he resumes his mopping. 

Patsy slides four plates out of the natural wood cabinets. A shake of her head accompanies the realization of her mistake. She puts two of the plates back and turns to the living room wall. It’s her turn to plead: “Please, this doesn’t have to be complicated; I’m not asking for a steak dinner. I just want to go somewhere.”

Orel sighs as he looks over the clean living room and drags himself back to the hallway. The hallway transforms into a green tunnel that stretches for an eternity. Orel and Patsy take shape at the far end of the enchantment. Patsy meets Orel at the door after one of those 12-hour shifts.  She was very excited because her friend finally opened a pastry shop. Patsy showed off the menu that featured a breakfast stuffed donut. Orel admits that does sound pretty good.

Then, his one o’clock lunch break alarm slams his attention back to the closet door. He’d been so glad to leave early he forgot to turn the alarm off. Wait! Maybe, there is a solution here? 

After returning the Swiffer, Orel enters the kitchen with a deep breath; Patsy faces him from the sink. “All right,” Orel says like a scared shipping tech asking for his first raise, “Didn’t you tell me that Samantha actually opened her store?” 

Patsy raises both eyebrows, “Well, it’s a pastry shop but yeah.” 

“Then, why don’t we go there tonight?” 

“Now, that’s a great decision. It’s time for lunch.” Patsy steps next to Orel and wraps her arm around his. 

She escorts him to the table, and he casts a sideways glance at her with a grin. He says, “But, you owe me one movie before we go.” 

Patsy giggles which draws a full laugh from Orel. 

The table’s fall spread of macaroni casserole and squash with fruit salad looks amazing. Orel and Patsy sit and fix their plates. 

He says after only one bite, “Patsy, you’ve outdone yourself. No doubt from here, we’ll make the most of our day.”