We've Got This

Greg's snoring could be heard throughout the usually quiet house. His body was sprawled all about the double queen size bed, with one arm behind his head, the other close to his crotch to occasionally scratch at his belly button, his left leg angled fifty degrees from his torso and entering dangerously close to his wife's side of the bed, and his right leg just completely off the bed entirely. His short shirt exposed his poor stomach and the amount of self-conscious adjusting he'd done throughout his sleep allowed his jogging pants to ride down nearly to unacceptable levels. Such a state of dress wouldn't have been an issue had he been under the covers, though his body at some point deemed such fabrics unimportant to the sleeping process and tossed them unceremoniously onto the foot of the bed.

The snoring didn't bother Maria, his beloved, who was not only thrilled to have her second favourite man – next to her father, of course – back home for at least a few days but was impressed by just how loud his vocal cords could allow him to go. She remembered being newly wedded to him, hearing his soft whimpers, which led to full-on lion roars in the middle of the night. At first, she cursed her fate of sharing the same bed as someone as vocal as that. But she grew to be used to it, most nights even cuddling up closer to him while he serenaded her with his nightly opera. It wasn't beautiful, but it was safe.

As he slept, she maintained the house as usual on Sundays. It may have been a day of rest and worship for others; for her, it was the day she picked to do most of the household work. Working a nine-to-five, raising a little one, and having a father who had to be away for a lot of the time, she picked and chose which days were meant for what, and after a week of working customer service, Saturdays seemed perfect for doing absolutely nothing, and Sundays were to pick up where she left off.

In the corner of her eye, in the middle of cleaning the remaining dishes and beginning the process of drying them, she could see a mess of curly hair bobbing up and down from behind the kitchen table. Maria knew which direction her little goblin was heading, and she gave him a cautionary clearing of the throat.

"You know not to bother your father when he's resting, Victor," she said softly in his direction.

"Aww, but Mama," Victor said, "he promised to be up by now so we could play catch in the park. It's gonna rain soon; the weather guy said so."

"I know, dear, but your Papa still needs to recharge his batteries today. You know he doesn't make his promises lightly, right?"

"Yeah..."

"So why don't you wait outside, and I'll see if he's ready, eh? You can even take a cookie or two to munch on while you wait."

The eight-year-old's eyes lit up as if Christmas had come again in May, and all the snow that had melted a week earlier would return for one more day. He didn't question the generosity, nor did he overextend such graciousness he had been bestowed. He'd take his two cookies and scampered through the back door and into the yard, where he sat on his swing and began to gnaw on the chocolate chips within the cookie.

"Already askin', huh?"

Maria moved to greet her husband, who slowly strode into the kitchen. Having dried her hands on her apron, she gently placed them onto Greg's broad chest while he, in turn, wrapped his arms around her shoulders for a loose hug, which was completed with a small kiss between the couple.

"He's just anxious to finally play with you again," she said, giving Greg one final kiss before easing away from his hold. "You haven't been home for a long time, and now you've been able to stay home for longer than a week. He's missed you a great deal."

"I bet..." Greg mumbled tiredly, walking toward the window to see his little boy on the swing. "I'll go out there in a bit, just need to wake up a little more. Plus, I think he's enjoying that cookie too much."

"It should be those cookies. Plural."

Greg chuckled. "I only see half of one cookie in his hand. If he's had more than one, then they're already consumed by our little monster."

Maria laughed softly, moving to Greg to take his arm into hers. She hugged it tightly, almost claiming it for her own. When Greg felt her head resting on his shoulder, his head leaned into hers. Both would stare at Victor, who was still happily munching away at the remaining bits of cookie in his hand, all the while having built some momentum on the swing to get some height. Not too high, he had once fallen off and hurt himself going higher than he should have, and that was a lesson he wasn't going to forget. He looked so carefree, content with life and his own little adventures he wasn't aware of how observed he was. 

"How long did they give you?" Maria asked, breaking the silence which had gone on for many minutes.

"They didn't say. There are more tests they need to do before they give me a concrete answer. Heh. They told me to remain optimistic."

Maria hugged his arm tighter, clenching her eyes to fight her sadness. "What are we going to do..."

Greg sighed, pulling her off his arm so he could place both hands on her shoulders. "Listen to me, alright? We will get through this, and I will still be here. I'm still going to love you, and we're both going to take care of Victor. Okay? I don't care what the doctors will say once the tests come back, I'm going to fight this thing: Hell or high water. We've got this..."

Maria shuddered a little, allowing only a fraction of the sadness inside her to escape. But she gulped down and nodded to Greg, looking up at him with watery eyes. "We've got this."

From the outside, on his perch, which had finally come to a stop, Victor watched as the silhouettes of his parts looked at each other for a minute, then hugged each other tightly. He didn't hear what they were saying, their hushed tones and the wind making it difficult to hear, but he couldn't help but be curious about what was happening. They looked rather serious. Was he in trouble? Did he actually wake up his Papa with his whining earlier? Victor felt slightly guilty for doing so, but he was so happy to see him home. He was determined to play with his Papa as best as possible, to make him happy as he made Victor. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so sad about being sick.