Almost home

I worked eight hours today. That in itself is not a big deal, I often work eight-hours in a day. Today, though, I didn't go home right away. I wasn't too worried about the delay, I live with four other people.
My boys are all pretty self-sufficient. Even Luke, who does require respite when I'm not around, tends not to rip the toilet paper off the roller, toss the garbage over the floor or poop in a corner. I was sure everything and everyone would be safe.
I called for a ride home. Dave and Luke, after stopping at two stores, shopping, and then stopping for gas, came to get me. It was a 30-minute ride.
I made mindless chatter with my family, never comprehending that Root Beer was home alone.
I smiled brightly at my driver and his worthy assistant. "So, Matthew is with Root Beer?"
"No..." Dave replied.
"Josh went out of town," I stated
"Yep," said Dave.
I paused.
Dave added, "I blocked the kitchen so Root Beer couldn't get out."
"Really?" I tried to raise one eyebrow, but I'm not good at that, instead I looked like a drunk caterpillar trying to morph into a butterfly, all fierce concentration and a squiggly furrow.
The key turned in the door.
The cat, who always waits by the door when a key appears, mewed. The dog, who should have been upstairs in the kitchen, barked ferociously.
"What?" said Dave.
Root Beer nuzzled our feet and jumped to be petted.
She was glad we were home. It was hard work tunneling to freedom. The knocked-over plant and the spilled coffee shared its story. Root Beer had jumped the particle board and knocked over the end table; she had ducked under the coffee table and uprighted the coffee cups. She had risked injury for freedom but she had made it to the door, and now we were home.
Her work was done.