A defensive response lingered on her tongue, but she bit it back. Jay wasn’t Dan. He wasn’t trying to be rude. And it’s not like he was the only one who had said this to her. Natalie was on her all the time about how lax she was with Amelia about chores. They weren’t wrong. Whitney did work too hard. Exhaustion had become a way of life for her.

Sighing, she said, “Nah, she’s already mad enough at me right now. I’d rather do the chores than fight with her again.”

“I’m sorry.” Whitney’s heart melted at his concerned tone. “What were you fighting about?”

“She’s spending the night at her friend Lauren’s on Friday and I insisted on taking her instead of just letting her go over after school.” Whitney paused, wondering if she sounded too overbearing. “She’s never gone over there before,” she added.

“So, you’re all alone on Friday night, huh?”

Whitney’s belly quivered at the memory of his gentle touch. “Yeah, I guess I am.” She loved how he’d taken a dark situation and shone some light. “You wanna come over?”

“Of course I do.” She smiled at his quick response. “Oh, but shoot. I can’t.” Whitney’s heart sank. “I forgot I’m going out of town on a business trip. Rain check?”

“Yeah,” she answered, trying to mask her disappointment. The only red flag she’d detected about him so far was his demanding job and traveling schedule. She’d already been married to a man like that, and it was rough.

After hanging up, she headed toward the sink. Thinking over what Jay said, she contemplated asking Amelia to do them. It would be nice to have some help around here. To be able to sit down and take a load off.

Amelia still hadn’t come out of her room. Probably in there sulking and listening to music on her earbuds. She imagined how it would go if she went into Amelia’s room.

“Hey, do you mind doing the dishes?”

“What?” she’d shout, rolling over, popping out one earbud.

“Can you do the dishes?”

“In a little bit.” Translation: Wait for Whitney to finally give in and do it herself.

“No, I’d rather you do it now.”

“Fine.” Groaning and stomping would ensue. Then would come the muttering under the breath, “Oh, my God. I have so much homework to do. And I still have to study for that test.”

Next would be the loudness. The banging of pans. Clinking of dishes. Slamming of cabinet doors.

For the moment it was calm and quiet. Why would she want to upset that?

It was easier to simply do it herself. Taking a deep breath, Whitney turned on the faucet. Yes, it was better this way.

She’d let Amelia cool off, and then she’d see if she wanted to go grab dinner or something.