In the Shannon-Haast house, Sunday was the only day Johnny was up before Toni. Half asleep, she heard him preparing to play guitar at the Warriors of Christ mega-church. Johnny stepped on a block of Lego as he crept into their bedroom to fetch his washable suit. "Fuck," he whispered, "I mean heck."
"Johnny!"
"What? Sorry, did I wake you up?"
"Get real. How I am supposed to sleep with you crashing around?" From down the hall she heard Byron announcing Kyron had wet his bed. "Oh thanks, now you've woken the boys."
Johnny stood paralysed in the middle of the bedroom. He was wearing a plaid shirt with a stripy tie, his suit draped over his arm. Toni propped herself up on her elbow. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Eh?"
"You can't wear that tie with that shirt."
"My Sunday shirt isn't ironed."
"You've had all frigging week to iron your shirt. What the hell do you do with your time?"
Johnny didn’t seem able to answer. He was rooted there, pathetic.
"OK." Toni sighed. "Make me a cup of coffee, and I'll iron your shirt."
Johnny didn't move.
Toni was only wearing a t-shirt and wouldn't get out of bed until he was out. "Hello!" Johnny's breathing deepened; he was building up for something. "Forget it," she said before he might ask. "I'll iron your shirt, but I'm not coming with you."
"Oh, no, no. I knew that. But I thought maybe I could take the boys – just this time. You know how much they like to see me play. Please, love."
Toni normally said no. She didn't mind the happy clapping so much, but, with their marriage on the rocks, she had a nagging suspicion that, if they did actually split up, somehow his church going with the boys would count in Johnny's favour. She was not sure why this might be so or why it mattered, but today she imagined herself going back to bed. "OK. But just this once."