Lexy said as she unlocked the door of the small white box that was their home. The little garden of wildflowers was the best thing about its outward appearance. The paint was chipping off the outside of the house in big chunks. The windows needed to be replaced and the yard was filled with cars. Inside was better but a little shabby. The furniture was old, possibly hand-me-downs or pieces salvaged from a Dumpster. None of it matched, but everything was clean. It was not glamorous but he could see Lexy’s touch. Little things, like the arrangement of the pictures on the walls and the curtains with the embroidered flowers, told him that she tried her best with what she had. On the coffee table lay little pink-and-white squares of cloth that appeared to belong to an unfinished baby blanket. Looking around his surroundings helped him learn about the woman he was married to. He looked over at her, seeing worry on her pretty face.
