A Day in the Life of...
The content in this Chronicle and on this website is intended for adults, 18 years and older.
A Day in the Life of…
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
“I really hate them,” Matt mumbled only to groan seconds later when the sounds of his brother groaning his wife’s name became louder and he was forced to pull a pillow over his head and-
“God, you feel so fucking good!”
-decided that he didn’t need sleep after all.
Only a few more weeks, Matt reminded himself as he got up, tripped over his pants before grabbing them off the floor and pulling them on. That was followed by grabbing a shirt off one of the piles of dirty clothes covering his floor, pulling it on, tripping over his boots, and-
Deciding that it would probably be a good idea to started sleeping in his shop until his apartment was finished. Definitely a good idea, Matt thought when he stepped into the hallway and heard things. Doing his best to block out all the sounds that he really didn’t want to hear his brother make, he headed downstairs, pulling his boots on along the way and headed to the barn that his family had been working out of for almost a hundred and fifty years.
He loved the old shop, but…
He had plans, plans that involved moving Bradford Furniture off his family’s property and into its own building so that he could expand, hire some help, and follow in his cousin Devin’s footsteps, but right now, that’s all they were. Plans. He needed some time to figure a few things out, save more money, but eventually, he planned on expanding Bradford Furniture. It was just going to take time, he told himself as he stepped into the barn and found himself debating going back inside so that he could hear his brother yell ten more variations of the word “fuck” when he saw who was waiting for him.
“You’re late,” the teenage pain in the ass that he couldn’t seem to get rid of, said around a spoonful of cereal.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Matt asked, only to follow that up with, “Get out,” when he remembered what happened the last time that he made the mistake of talking to her.
“Can’t,” Jen said, shrugging it off as she hopped up onto his workbench, settled in, and continued eating.
“You really can,” Matt said, snatching the bowl of cereal out of her hand and taking a bite of Fruit Loops before gesturing for her to get off his bench.
With a sigh, Jen hopped back down only to steal the bowl of cereal that was rightfully his, took a bite, and said, “You’re running behind,” before heading to his office.
“There’s nothing on the books for today,” he told the little brat that was going to drive him to drink one day.
“You have two internet orders, Mr. Peabody wants to pick up his table today, and your cousin Lucifer is coming to look at the chairs you promised him for the Fire & Brimstone,” Jen said as she went to take another bite only to roll her eyes when he stole the bowl back with a, “He’s not coming until the twenty-sixth.”
“Which is today.”
“It’s really not though,” he said around a mouthful of Fruit Loops as he glanced around his office, looking for the box of cereal, knowing that he was going to need a second bowl to help him deal with the little pain in the ass.
“Then why did he send a text last night saying that he would be here by eight?” Jen asked, blinking innocently at him as Matt found himself glancing down at the iPad on his desk and-