A sudden wave of exhaustion washes over me. Something that happens to me as of late when I’m overly stressed or when my stomach is giving me fits. It’s as if some invisible being were wrapped around my shoulders, and I’m made to bear his or her entire weight.
All I can think about is clearing my brain, getting myself to the couch, and stealing a quick five-minute nap while I have a moment to myself . . . while the kids are safely occupied with Robyn out in the barn. I’m heading in that direction when the doorbell rings. A start in my heart. Pulse perks up. Mouth goes slightly dry. The doorbell is not something we hear all that often out here in the country. On occasion, an art student might come to the front door having ignored the sign out front that tells them explicitly to go directly
