Memories Of Us

1

"G'mornin Daddy."

Blue eyes peer at me from just over the edge of the bed, mere inches from my face. The loveliest eyes to wake up to in the morning, save his mother's. I bring my finger to my lips.

"Shh, Teddy, don't wake Mommy." I roll back, my right hand feeling across the sheets, but the other side of the bed is empty. s**t. In her even-more-clumsy-than-usual state, how does she mAbige to do that?

"Mommy say Daddy UP!" Ted informs me, pulling himself up on the bed by his dimpled elbows.

"Oh she did, did she?" I yank my little miniature into my arms, tickling him mercilessly. He squeals and wiggles, feet kicking out. Stopping before his face turns too pink, I clutch him to my chest, breathing in his baby scent. My son. My beautiful boy, the light of my life. "Good morning, baby boy."

Teddy pushes off my chest and glares at me, his eyebrows wrinkled. "I not baby! Big brudder!" He bounces up and down on my bladder on every word to drive the message home.

I laugh, which is no better for my full bladder than the bouncing. I lift my son about the waist and plop him down beside me, trying and ultimately failing to look contrite. "Yes, you're a big boy. And you'll be a big brother soon, we've talked about this, remember? Soon, not yet." I kiss his chubby cheek.

~oOo~

Abi has Ted in his chair at the breakfast bar. His face is smeared liberally with peanut butter, and squares of toast are strewn across his area of the counter. How he mAbiges to miss his mouth is beyond me; the boy loves to eat. Abi is leaning, as best she can with her ever-expanding belly, over the counter, making faces at our son. She's so beautiful, hair twirled and pinned, a few stray tendrils framing her face, her curves hugged by her gray flannel dress. She must have a meeting this morning, I suppose. She's preoccupied and oblivious to my musings, and I snake my arms around her from behind, my hands coming to rest on our growing daughter.

"Oh!" Abi jumps a bit, then relaxes into my arms. "Good morning, Daddy."

I smile into her neck, placing a soft kiss against her warm skin. She smells heavenly. "Good morning to you, Mommy. How did you sleep?"

"Not as well as you did," she giggles, turning in my hold to wrap her arms about my neck. She rises on her toes, rounded belly pressing into me, and plants a lingering kiss on my lips. Her rounded breasts brush my chest, sending waves of need southward. I taste peanut butter and a hint of blueberry. Good, she's eaten, my mind changes gear. One less thing to worry over. Abi is so right to label me mercurial, as she does so often. It never ceases to shock me how I can go from carnal need to protector/provider mode in the blink of an eye. I'd never have paid mind to most of my tendencies without her. "You were so out," she says. "Did you enjoy your wake-up-call?"

"I did." I slide my hands downward to clutch her behind as my thoughts take their previous turn. She kisses me once more.

"No antics this morning, Mr. Green," she chides me, bringing her hands down to my chest and fastening my top button. "I have to go, can you finish up with him? Gail called, she's going to be a little late."

I glance out our back window at the clouds rolling in over the sound. My stomach clenches briefly, and I bury the urge to insist she stay home today. We've had far too many squabbles about her safety and my control-freakishness, and at the end she's upset and I'm angry, and then she's angry and I'm upset. Never a pleasant way to start things, even on the occasion I get my way. Turning back to my wife, I nod, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "All right." I bend and kiss her belly as well. "Wear your jacket, it's looking nasty outside."

"I promise." She fingers my hair lovingly, then trundles off to brush her teeth.

My son had mAbiged to gobble up the last of his toast, making my job that much easier. I dab a washcloth over his face and hands, eliminating the sticky mess. His shirt was another story entirely. The bib remained largely unspattered. Oh, little boys and their organized chaos. I tossed the bib onto the counter and mAbiged to pull the shirt over his head without redressing his face with peanut butter; it joined the bib in a pile. Teddy raised his arms to me and I lifted him, settling him on my hip.

"Wish me luck!" Abi breathes, re-entering the kitchen. She plants a kiss on Teddy's cheek, and then pecks my lips. My free arm captures her, pulling her to me. Even in her rush to get out the door, she's breathtaking. Her eyes are wide, her face flushed with hurry, but she fits herself to my side and I lower my lips to hers, our tongues greeting one another. Her minty breath joins mine, and we lose ourselves in the moment.

"Mommy!" Ted gasps. The indignation on his face is comical, and Abi giggles, breaking us apart. It's one of the loveliest sounds in the world. She puckers her lips at him, Ted leans forward in my arms and gives her a loud, smacking peck.

"I love my boys," she tells us, adjusting the jacket over her arm.

"We love you, too," I say. God, I love her, so very much. "Good luck today, baby."

"Love, Mommy!" Ted bellows, and Abi blows him a kiss. Sawyer holds the front door for her, and they're off.

And I'm left with the task of dressing my son. Again. With any luck, he'll remain semi-clean until Gail arrives. I sigh... in two more months, there will be twice as many little clothes to change. And I'll love every minute of it.