Notes: Congratulations to my mother again, this time for her retirement. She is my idol in some ways, so hard working and all...
Laurent wasn't an ace at the kitchen, but he could make an exception to his avoidance for his parents. Both Miriel and Stahl had certainly invited him to join them for dinner, yet their daily tasks had kept them from preparing anything.
"Sorry we are depending on you like this," his father said, his head lying exhaustedly on the table.
"Our most sincere apologies, son," Miriel joined her husband, a kerchief to her nose.
Laurent turned to look at his parents, smiling to show them it was fine with him. His focus on chopping vegetables made the words die on their way out of his brain; he cared more about not cutting himself and contaminating the food.
"Husband, as we were discussing this morning," Miriel's scientific voice went on, soothing in the background, "I have been feeling unwell but haven't figured out the reason just yet."
"Oh, yes, you mentioned that," Stahl replied. "You should try to visit a healer soon, your research can wait." He was a fountain of wisdom, yet...
"Science cannot wait!" his mother protested. "I have taken some time to seek information about my condition already, but my findings are inconclusive."
Laurent started pouring clean water into a pot, concentrating yet eager to hear more. "Perhaps if you share your case with us, we can help you, mother."
"I very much doubt it," Miriel said as bluntly as always, "yet I like hearing your theories, your mind's processing is quite satisfactory."
"I just know that is a compliment, son, you should take it," Stahl added, barely over the sound of his stomach's grumbling.
The youth chuckled. He liked his parents and the way they matched, thankful they let him into their lives.
"My symptoms are stubborn dehydration and constipation." And there she was with her lack of a too-much-information barrier. "I have also experienced nausea during the evening."
"I hope my cooking doesn't make it worse," Laurent joked.
"It is likely to worsen my condition, unfortunately." Way to make it hard on him. "Though more because of the odor than the flavor." Still awful to say, specially as it was a simple soup. "I seem to be more sensitive to scents now, as well."
"Is that the reason for that kerchief you are holding all over your face?" Stahl asked.
Miriel readjusted her glasses. "Yes, it is reasonably thick, but not suffocating."
"Have you suspected a stomach bug?"
"I don't eat insects."
"No, I mean..." Laurent looked at his mother, but he gave up. "Nevermind." He stirred the vegetables in the pot, sighing. "Or maybe you are pregnant?"
His father jumped on his seat, blushing like mad. Miriel lowered her kerchief, then, surprisingly, her glasses. "That would explain some other things," they said in unison.
Laurent laughed, shaking his head. "Congratulations, you two."
"We will be very happy to have you," Stahl assured him, standing to hug his wife.