Chapter Text
He was pulled out of his peaceful slumber slowly, the back of his eyelids brightening from black to red as he heard muted whispers filling the air around him. He scrunched his eyes together and focused his mind, trying to place himself in his newfound consciousness.
He heard a high-pitched voice clearly attempting to be quiet, “Come on! Before he wakes up!” And instantly Jakob knew that he was in his bed–his and Jean’s bed–in the early morning hearing the excited voice of his four year old daughter mixing with the robins singing their tune outside.
With his eyes still closed, he heard Jean shush Joy, heard the soft sounds of his partner circling the bed, and in his mind’s eye Jakob could see a flurry of yellow scurrying around the room, across the threshold and into the hallway.
At the faint thud of the bedroom door he opened one eye, and after confirming his girls had in fact left the room he opened the other, sat up and stretched his stiff muscles in the bed, groaned as he heard his joints cracking. He tried to make sense of his daughter’s frantic words, ' Before he wakes up!' and suddenly he remembered the date, let his mind drift back to the night before when Jean had given him a very pleasurable early birthday present. He grinned.
So Joy and Jean were planning something for his birthday this morning; his eyes glided over to the door and he sucked on his teeth in debate. Decision made, Jakob threw the covers back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
Quietly, he turned the doorknob, poked his head into the hallway, his ears open for any signs of his partner or youngest daughter. In their absence he walked out of the room, tiptoed over to the stairs and began his descent. Midway through his trek downstairs he heard the clamoring of pots and pans from the kitchen, and when he reached the landing near the bottom of the steps, he smiled widely at the sight of Jean bustling around the kitchen. He squinted and saw the top of a green chair floating towards the counter and fought to suppress a laugh.
Jakob crept around the furniture, hid behind the wall at the edge of the kitchen bar, poked his head around it to see Joy’s little body struggling to push the chair, finally knocking it against the counter.
“Careful, Joy,” Jean said lovingly from across the room. Jakob moved his gaze to his partner, saw her placing slices of bacon onto a baking sheet and his lips curled upwards. His heart raced, threatened to explode at the display of love before him, and he scrubbed his hand over his face.
“Mamma! Mamma, do we have spinach?” Joy whipped her head around to look at Jean, now placing the bacon in the oven, pressing buttons on the timer.
“Yes, darling, we have spinach,” she said idly, “Hang on a second.”
“And mangoes?”
“Joy, yes. I got everything that you asked me to,” Jean laughed and Jakob’s stomach fluttered at the melodic sound.
He smirked as he leaned a little further out from behind the wall to get a better view of Joy, standing in her nightgown atop the kitchen chair with one hand on her hip, one presumably on her chin. Her mother came over to her, ran her fingers through the little girl’s messy hair.
Jean lifted her from the chair and set her on the floor, “Will you go get the seeds, darling?” And Jakob stood up straight to make sure that he remained unseen. When he peeked back into the kitchen he saw Jean rummaging through the refrigerator, removing a number of bags of sliced fruits and he furrowed his brow. When did she slice those? And where did she find room to hide them?
“Here, Mamma!” Joy yelled running back from the pantry with a bag of chia seeds in her grasp, and Jean hushed her daughter again, causing Joy to murmur a quiet “Whoops!”
Having laid the already cut fruits before her on the countertop, Jean gestured for her daughter to climb back on the chair, to stand next to her.
“Oh!” Jean exclaimed as she walked back over to the refrigerator, “What kind of milk, Joy?”
“Oat!” The little girl said with pride, clearly excited to be the expert in the kitchen for once, and Jean walked back over to her with a carton of oat milk in her hand. She kissed Joy on the top of her head, let out a breath, “OK, where do we start?”
Jakob had to stop himself from chuckling as he observed the backs of Jean and Joy, saw them adding the milk into the blender, then the fruits, then some baby spinach out of one of the bags Jean had fetched from the refrigerator.
“Is that enough?” Jean turned her head to look at Joy, and the child nodded her head vigorously. Jakob’s heart swelled at the sight of his partner’s profile, her mouth stretching into a grin in front of him.
She lifted the bag of chia seeds to pour into the blender, but Joy intervened, “That’s not how Daddy does it!”
Jean sighed, looked at her daughter again, lips pursed, “How does Daddy do it?”
Joy scooted closer to the counter as she grabbed a handful of chia seeds out of the bag and sprinkled them delicately into the blender, “Like this.”
When the four year old finished she looked up at Jean, chin held high, a smile on her face. “Good job,” Jean encouraged, and Joy’s grin widened even further. Jean placed the top on the blender and asked, “Do you want to push the button?” And Jakob saw his daughter’s head bob up and down again.
Jakob heard the soft whirring of the machine as Jean held the lid firmly, keeping it in place. He thought back with affection to that day over four years ago when Jean surprised him with that blender on the very day he moved into this house that would become home.
“It’s perfect for you,” she had said with a shy smile as he walked over to the counter after depositing a large box labeled “Kitchen” on the table. “It’s so quiet.”
And Jakob embraced her from behind as they looked at the device, he turned his head to kiss her temple, whispered in her ear “So I won’t disturb you in the mornings?”
Jean nodded, “So you don’t have to worry about disturbing anyone in the mornings.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked at him.
And now as the minimal noise ceased completely, he watched as his partner and daughter emptied the contents of that very blender into a glass, and Jean rooted around in the drawer to find a metal straw to stick in it.
“All done!” Joy announced and held her arms up.
“Yep, all done,” Jean affirmed, placing her hands under Joy’s armpits and setting her on the floor for the second time, “Put the chair back while I finish at the stove and then we’ll bring everything up, OK?”
Taking Jean’s proclamation as a cue, Jakob snuck back to the stairs, carefully tiptoeing in his ascent, keeping an eye on the kitchen the whole time to be sure that Joy didn’t catch even a glimpse of him. He shuffled quickly down the hallway and back into the bedroom, closed the door gently before climbing back into bed. He slid down on his back, rested his head on the pillows as he waited for his girls to make their way back upstairs.
And he must’ve drifted to sleep in earnest, because the next thing Jakob could recall was smelling the aroma of perfectly cooked bacon, hearing high-pitched giggles near his head. He opened his eyes to see a pair of wide blue, innocent eyes next to his head that could only belong to his daughter.
“Happy Birthday, Daddy!” She shouted in great excitement, a smile exposing all teeth and gums and dimpling her cheeks.
He sat up, brought the back of his hand to his eyes to wipe away the remnants of sleep that remained there, shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs that had formed in his short slumber.
“Wha–” he began, before Joy spoke again.
“We made you breakfast for your birthday!”
Jakob looked past his daughter, saw Jean standing with a tray in the doorway, a soft smile painted on her face as she looked in their direction.
“For me?” He asked lightly as his partner’s cheeks flushed and she looked down. He moved his eyes back to Joy who was buzzing in her place, her energy so palpable that Jakob could feel her excitement in the air around them. “Thank you, baby,” he said to her, held his arms out at his sides for a hug.
The little girl climbed up onto the bed, using the bed frame for leverage, and embraced her father warmly. He twisted her so that she was sitting on his lap, and Jean placed the tray in front of them, sat gingerly on the edge of the mattress.
He scanned the food in front of him: the bacon he saw Jean put into the oven, but also two fried eggs and two slices of toast, and of course the green smoothie sitting to the side. He grabbed a piece of bacon, took a ferocious bite out of it, released a groan as he chewed. “This is really good,” he glanced at Jean, noted how she pursed her lips in an attempt to hide a proud smile.
“Try the smoothie, Daddy!” Joy encouraged, and Jakob picked up the glass, brought the straw to his lips.
“Did we do it right?” His daughter asked, eyes wide and sparkling and full of hope.
But the only thing Jakob could taste in the drink, stronger than the spinach and the mangoes and the bananas and the apples, was love. He brought his daughter closer against his chest, placed a kiss on the crown of her head, “It’s perfect, Joy.”
And the little girl’s smile was as big as Jakob had ever seen it before, and she giggled as she brought her hands to her face.
Jakob held a hand out to Jean and she grabbed it, slid closer to them, mindful not to jostle the breakfast tray. He kissed her knuckles, took a deep breath in wonderment at his daughter in his arms, his partner in his hand. “I am so lucky,” he whispered only to them.