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You suppose waking up when your rest was so peaceful and so deserved and so needed , is always a hard task.
Still, you try to make the best of it. You try to make the most of it. Taking it slow. Taking it one day at a time. And learning how to appreciate the little things. The little moments. The little pieces of happiness that exist all around you. The bed is cramped, but you’re together. Your apartment is cold, but they’re warm. You’ll have to get up eventually, but for now, you won’t. Things could be worst. Things could be a lot worst.
And so when you wake up, the first thing you notice is the heavy arm around your waist. Slung down low and holding you so tight. A body has no business being that warm. The second thing you notice is the tickle of a warm breath brushing against your skin. Soft and steady and ready to lull you back to sleep if it so wanted to. And it looks like it did. A body has no business being that comforting.
But the second thing you notice? It’s the sound of your son. Giggling, shouting, and banging on your bedroom door. Ready to take on the morning. Ready to seize the day. And most of all- ready to terrorize you until someone gets up and handles him. Or he tires himself out.
Whichever comes last.
“ Ugh ,” It’s Vi who reacts first. Out of the three of you, she’s always been the lightest sleeper. And so, it’s her groan that really gathers everyone’s attention. It’s what knocks you out of your trance-like state of listening to your son’s usual shout of wanting someone to eat breakfast and play cars with him as soon as possible. If it weren’t for Vi, you probably would have laid there for an additional three minutes before your mind finally caught up to what you were listening to. But then again, if it weren’t for Vi, you probably would have been this tired in the first place. Man , that girl can snore. “Your Hell Spawn has awoken.”
As she brings up the very affectionate yet oh-so-unfortunate nickname she has for your son, Vi turns her head to look at you and uses the arm slung over your waist to deliver a quick pinch for good measure. In an instant, you’re frowning and scrunching up your nose in response. A quick bloom of pain spreads over your body. And then just as quickly, it vanishes. Leaving you alone with Vi’s warm yet sleepy gaze peering into your eyes beneath a mess of pink hair. You try not to think about that smile she gives you as you mentally prepare yourself for a fun-filled morning of your son serving you cereal and begging you to play race car driver. You try not to but it’s never that easy. Not when she starts to pull you in and pull you close like now. But by then, the other person in your bed has already begun to stir.
“Don’t call him that,” Caitlyn mumbles simply, a wave of sleep still washing over her voice. You turn your head away from Vi’s to face Caitlyn. All it takes is a simple crane of the neck, and suddenly, you’re face to face with her as she tucks herself further into your grip. Her breath just brushes past your lips as you take in the sight of her before she ducks in for a quick kiss on your skin. Like Vi, she sports the messy hair and an exhausted look all too well. But unlike Vi, she’s more than content with just laying at your side and keeping her eyes closed as she lets the sounds happening outside your bedroom window rock her back to sleep. And with a short delay, she continues in a voice no less heavy than a thousand rocks “He’s not that bad.”
You open your mouth to resort. You know your son. You raised him, fed him, clothed him. Protected and comforted him. Hell, you’ve ever spoiled him rotten on more than one occasion. And there will not be an ounce of hatred in your blood towards your son. Ever! That’s why the sudden bout of silence coming from the other side of the room surprises you. It’s unlike your son to give up so easily. Never mind that the milk and cereal are put in a place where he could access both all the spoons he could ever want or need to his heart’s content. Never mind all that. He wanted to pour everyone some cereal, and then he wanted to assign everyone a car. You had a feeling he was going to keep shouting until he got his way.
At least, that was what you thought was going to happen.
The silence coming from the other side of the room suddenly makes itself known to you. It’s a dull sound. One that you more than appreciate. But it’s one that makes you concerned as well. After all, this is your little boy. Your loveable tyke. Your tiny terror. And if it’s one thing that you’ve learned after five years of being a Mom, it’s that silence can just as good as it is bad. And for some reason, you have the
“He’s quiet…” Vi remarks, the same type of suspicion growing in your stomach now present in her voice. She pulls herself to sit up, the covers sliding off of her body and settling in a weird position on top of you and the girl still trying to doze off right beside you. You suppose you can’t really blame Caitlyn for taking the chance to snuggle closer to you and tug the covers over her body to keep warm. The poor girl did have to pick up an extra couple of shifts these past few days. And you don’t blame Vi for starting to get a little worried about your son’s sudden shift to silence. She’s an older sister. She knows how they work. She knows what they mean.
And now?
SLAM! BOOM! CRASH!
It’s sad to say that all three of you can imagine what that means .
At the sound of things falling down and falling apart in your apartment, you shoot up in bed- Caitlyn following close behind you. A couple of seconds of racing hearts and stuttered breaths fill the air before you hear the tell-tale sound of a guilty party. The infamous “Uh-oh” from a very, very concerned little boy. Unsure of how to fix whatever it is that’s now broken and needs to be replaced (Or hidden, until the next fragile piece of whatever comes in the mail).
And sadly, you can already imagine your son rummaging around for a brush and a broom so he can clean the floors of whatever mess he threw himself into.
So at this point in time, you release a deep breath. Right beside you, Caitlyn lets out a sigh, almost ashamed of the fact that she had just defended your son a couple of minutes prior. On the other side, Vi lets out a thoughtful huff, almost as if she’s ready to take Caitlyn’s position and lay down the law for your little one. And as tempting as it is, you know she would be just about ready to break once your son hits her with a set of puppy dog eyes. And while you’re sure Caitlyn would fare much better in a lecture against your son, you have a feeling the soft snores that are starting to fill the air tell you that’s not an option. At least, not now.
So with a reluctant spirit and a brave heart, you push yourself up and crawl out of bed. It’s an agonizing process. You feel the cool air of your apartment push up against you as the blankets fall from your body. And when you leave the comfort of your bed shared by two others, you’re more than ready to give up and let someone else deal with it. Especially now that your feet are touching the Undercity’s shittiest, coldest tiled bedroom floor in the world. But you don’t let that stop you. No , you just hold your head high, take a deep breath, and you-
A hand grabs your wrist. A gentle, yet firm grip. It’s no surprise that it’s Vi’s warm, comforting hand circling around your arm. But it is a surprise that she’s tossing up an eyebrow at you expectantly and giving you a half-smile.
“We’ll go together,” She tells you evenly as if there’s no room for debate. Not that you would, anyways. It’s said in a quiet tone you appreciate in your still somewhat sleepy state. An offer you can’t refuse. Not on a slow morning like this one, at least. And a second later, she adds to it. With a quick turn of her head to the woman who was sleeping on your opposite side, now pushing even more exhausted-looking self out of your bed too. “Come on, Cupcake. Up and at ‘em.”
“Don’t rush me,” Caitlyn responds pointedly with a yawn. Her eyes are still just barely open, but she manages to find her way to the two of you as she takes a hair tie off of her wrist and puts her hair up. You open your mouth to tell her it’s okay- that she can go back to bed instead of dealing with this. After all, you know she had a long, long couple of days. But she’s quick to raise her hand in your face in a shushing motion, her mind already made up as she settles to stand in front of you two. “Well… shall we?”
A hand grabs your left one. Another grabs your right. You look to both sides and see varying gazes of preparedness. But you wasted long enough. It was time to face the little monster (who you can now hear sweeping through your thin, thin walls) on the other side of the door.
“We shall.”
But that all being said, you suppose things could be worst. Things could be a lot worse. Sure, you know a pink-haired secret softie who would be no good at lecturing your son because she’d break within twenty minutes might not be the best help with your current predicament. But she’s already standing on your left. And yeah, you know a sleepy, sharp-eyed snoring solider who looks like she’s about to go back to dreamland who would do even less to help your cause. But she’s already up and swaying on your right. But honestly? You don’t mind that much. You have the two women you love most of all by your side, ready to take on the world with you. So things can’t be that bad. Besides, at least, he’s not doing anything else that could-
CRASH! BANG!
… On second thought…
“MOMMM!!!”
…maybe things couldn’t be worst. Maybe they couldn’t be worse at all.