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It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been to town. Not that he doesn’t let me out, we just…never get around to it. We spend a lot of time in my library, he does his experiments in the lab corner and I read. I’ve been trying to branch out recently from my usual religious texts so this morning, I’m reading A Thousand and One Nights. It’s a bit shorter than I’m used to but I’m enjoying getting to sit back into a narrative again.
***
“You know you can leave right?” I pick my head up from my story to look over at Roger, a question dancing in my blue orbs.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re allowed to leave if you’d like, Arthur. I’m not holding you hostage.”
Sigh.
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I just want to spend time with you?” I start to stand up and move towards him as he sits on his stool. I stop about a foot in front of him and gaze at him lovingly.
“I just—I don’t know. Why would you?” he whispers into the air over my head. Oh no. I gathered him into my arms and make a decision.
“We’re going out.”
“Hmm?”
“Today, wait no, tomorrow,” I nod resolutely, “We’re going on a picnic, tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll plan everything.” I pull away from him and leave him some reassurances before I slip off to town to shop for the picnic.
***
“You know how bad my back is why are we hiking right now?” I laugh at Roger’s whining, lead him past the last set of trees and we pop into the grove I picked out for our picnic. The setting sun peeking through the treetops lights up the purple and blue wildflowers and casts shadows over Roger’s face as he gazes around in appreciation. His face lights up in youthful wonderment as he takes in the sound of the meadowlarks in the trees. I ghost a hand over his jaw before taking his hand to pull him towards the blanket I’d set out earlier in the morning.
He lowers himself to the blanket with a huff and I settle in next to him. I start emptying the picnic sack: hard cheese, bread, and strawberries (a bit out of season). We lounge together for a while, reminiscing our early childhoods and regaling stories of our scraped knees and bruises. He ends up supine with his head in my lap and I return to my book while stroking his hair. A deer stumbles into the grove and looks at me quizzically for a minute before I twitch, and it runs back the way it came.
I’m drifting off into slumber when I hear voices nearing me from behind. I crane my head over my shoulder to see my daughter, Pearl, enter, dragging her mother behind her. Pearl runs into my side and startles Roger awake.
“Oh! I’m so sorry to interrupt. Pearl, come back here, leave your father alone,” Hester runs over to grab Pearl but I wave her off.
“No, she’s okay,” I turn to Pearl and hug her into my lap when Roger sits up, “You’ve gotten so big since I saw you. Is that a whole foot?” She giggles at me and starts telling me how silly I am. Hester sits on the edge of the blanket, picking at the leftovers of our supper. I place my hand over hers and she looks up at me with a smile in her eyes. She tries to apologize again and I stop her with a smile. I spend the rest of the evening with my family and we part ways at the edge of the woods that night. Pearl sleeps in Roger’s arms as he gets ready to pass her over to Hester.
“Goodnight.”