Tildaâs breathing slowed as she began to calm down.
She turned on the living room light, her voice softening with apology.
âIâm sorry.
Without my glasses, I thought there was a thief in the house.
â
Seeing her pale face, Lyndon decided not to argue.
Instead, he inquired, âWere you getting some water?â
Tilda shook her head.
âNo, I was checking if Sheldon had kicked off his quilt.
â
Lyndon nodded and left it at that.
He rubbed his burning cheek with slender fingers and walked to the water dispenser.
Tilda had given him quite a slap on the cheek.
His face was definitely going to swell from that.
Tilda took a deep breath and hurried to the childrenâs room.
Sheldon was fast asleep, his quilt kicked off.
She gently tucked him back in and slipped out of the room.
By then, Lyndon had finished his water and was heading to his room.
Tilda glanced at him.
Even without her glasses, she could see the clear palm print on his cheek.
She bit her lower lip.
Seeing him about to enter his room, she called out, âWait a minute.
â
Lyndon paused and turned.
âWhatâs up?â
âIâll get some ointment for your face,â Tilda said.
Lyndon hesitated.
âNo, itâs fine.
â
âNo, you need it.
â
Tilda quickly walked to Elmaâs room, not giving him a chance to refuse.
He could tell she was headstrong.
With a sigh, Lyndon went to the living room and sat on the sofa, waiting.
Tilda put on her glasses and came out with a medicine box.
She sat beside him, opened the box, and handed him a tube of ointment.
âHere you go,â she said.