When Sara had awoken this morning, the thought had crossed her mind to drag the three men in her life to some frivolous activity that, by lunchtime at least, she had figured they would enjoy. The zoo, for want of a better family outing, had become the all too apparent victim; chosen and paid for with a quick phone call, leaflet in hand and a broad grin gracing her face.
Now that they were actually here, the Three Musketeers plus the infant D'artagnan had discovered that maybe her first thought was not always the best. Lincoln was sulking, his face pursed as he absently kicked at the chipped bark pathway that wound around the exhibits. If that's what they could have been called. They reminded Lincoln so much of Fox River, his pain and endless isolation etched onto each and every furry face he encountered.
However, on the opposite end of the scale, Michael's face grinned with excitement and he held his wide eyed son in his arms, exposing him to every sight and sound he would only ever encountered had Sara given birth in the jungle. Cole took in his surroundings, the high whistles and the chattering of tiny primates with a slightly fearful expression; a mirror image of his furry cousins clinging to their mother's backs.
Ever the doting father, Michael lifted his son closer to his face, whispering the names of each animal they came across. Cole's tired eyes searched his father's and gargling noises came from the infant. As Sara watched them, she could only imagine what Cole was thinking, her own laugher slipping from tightly bound lips on a cough. She followed the pair loyally, pushing the rattling rubber rimmed wheels of Cole's empty stroller awkwardly on the path.
This particular July was mild, not even close to becoming hot yet and somewhere, in the back of his mind, Lincoln blamed global warming. He wished LJ had come today, if not for the mindless mental torture of wild animals, then to keep him company. If the bustling zoo had to reminded him so much of his incarceration, Lincoln wanted LJ with him. Alas, a petite blonde named Alyson with brimming blue eyes and a polite disposition held his attention today and kept him from his family duties.
"Linc, are you ok?" Sara's voice shook the burly man from his daydream and his head snapped up from his shoes and their eyes met. Sara's hazel orbs glowed radiantly in the warming sunshine, her brow minutely furrowed with concern and her half open smile faded from her face. Lincoln gave her a warm smile and motioned around him with a lightly tanned arm.
"It's just a little too familiar, you know?" he admitted, his gaze dropping to his feet once more where his dark brown leather effect trainers had picked up dust from the pathway, splattering the grey matter all over his toes.
"Oh I'm sorry," Sara said in a pleading tone, which was met with a half smirk. "I didn't think," She stuttered slowly, placing her hand to her forehead and accenting her low intelligence. Lincoln balled his fists in his pockets as they followed Michael's footsteps side by side.
"It's fine," Lincoln lied with a sigh. "We're not here for me anyway," he smiled with a small nod towards the black haired bundle in Michael's arms. Sara turned her head towards her son, who was desperately trying to sleep through his father's ramblings. A small laugh left Sara from low in her chest.
"Does he even look bothered by any of this?" She chuckled. "He's trying to sleep but Michael wont let him," she added a little frustrated. Lincoln swung his head to hers and grinned. Sara caught his infectious grin and her pearly white teeth peaked from her smooth lips.
"This isn't for Michael?" Lincoln mused, a rumbled laugh following his words. Sara raised her eyebrows with her smile.
"If I'd known screaming animals would make him grin like that…" Sara started with a chuckle but her words trailed off with her thoughts. "Never mind," she shook her head. Lincoln smiled to himself and was thankful she hadn't divulged any further information.
With this family outing Sara had been efficient enough to organise food. Set on a small shelf under the stroller was a wicker basket with two halves of a hinged lid. It was very traditional, lined with a red and white chequered cotton cloth that reminded Sara of her grandmother. As they reached their new destination, a flat area of grass littered with other families out enjoying the heated day, Sara motioned for Michael and Lincoln to join her in one particular spot.
It was slightly shaded under a tree, the long creaking branches spreading out into the sky overheard. Tiny white plumes of cloud were spread sparsely over the blue background, and a whisper of a breeze tickled its way through the park. Sara stepped on the stroller brakes and reached under a dozing Cole to pull out a thick dark blue blanket. It was made of a fuzzy material that was dreadful for attractive fluff but it was perfect for picnics.
Sara flicked the blanket out over a patch of freshly cut grass next to the stroller and Michael caught the tasselled edge. He offered Sara a smile as they both knelt to the ground and flattened out the bumps in the fabric. Lincoln dropped to his knees at the edge of the blanket and inhaled quickly, tiny beads of sweat pouring from his brow and a white leather soccer ball pressed between him large hands.
"I'm starving!" he exclaimed through pants. He rolled the ball to one side as Sara presented the closed picnic hamper that had been hiding out the sun's glare. Michael took it from her and set it to one side of the blanket, small twisted tassels becoming trapped under its weight. He flipped one of the lids open and spied his prize, two chilled beers he had smuggled into the basket at the last second. Like a naughty child he grinned at Sara.
"Why you little…" she said stunned as he tossed one of the cans to Lincoln. Lincoln braced himself for its impact, tapped the top of the can with his fingernail and then, with a breaking sound, opened the can. He pressed it to his lips and drank hungrily, the frothy but bitter alcohol sliding down his throat easily.
"Can't have a fourth of July celebration without beer," Michael offered, snapping back his ring pull and opening his can. Sara shook her head with a smirk as he took a gulp, smacking his lips together with a satisfied grin plastered across his face. Michael held his beer into the air as he shuffled next to her on the blanket and using one hand to brace his weight, he lent behind her slightly.
Sara reached into the basket and pulled out some foiled packages. Rather then make a million sandwiches no one would eat she had enquired before they left and only made the ones people would want. "Ham and cheese for Lincoln," she said cheerily, launching the rustling oblong through the air towards Lincoln. "Chicken mayo for me," she stated setting the foiled sandwich down beside her. "And…" she leant backwards against Michael's chest, her head tilting to meet his when it fell towards her. "…roast beef for you," she breathed, eyes flickering between lips and opposing pools of colour.
Their lips were almost touching and Sara's words left hot air hanging between them. "My favourite," Michael whispered against her with a smirk, dropping his head and pressing his lips to hers slowly. Lincoln rolled his eyes at Cole, who had since stirred from his slumber and was squirming in his straps, evidently hungry too. Lincoln cleared his throat and Sara licked her lips as they parted to face him.
"I think the little guys hungry too," he said pointing a half eaten sandwich with a slither of ham peeking from the bread towards Cole. Sara and Michael both turned and gazed upon their son, kicking the air with frantic thrust of his chubby legs and a twist in his face when he threatened to cry. Before the piercing cries could invade their ears, Sara crawled forward and pressed her thumb to the button that held the nylon straps together. It sprung apart and Cole's eyes went wide with excitement and his hurried puffs of breath could clearly be heard.
Sara smiled at him as she scooped him from the padded stroller seat and lifted him against her chest. Tiny hands grasped at the flimsy material of her blouse, which an already open mouth was busy drooling on. Sara pressed a firm hand to Cole's back and she rolled backwards to her original position against Michael. The pair hit him with a bump and a bubbly puddle of beer spilled from the top of the can onto the blanket, turning the fabric almost black and the bubbles disappearing.
"Are you hungry baby?" Sara cooed, her vice rose into a high pitch flurry of words you would only hear from daytime kids television. Michael leant forward over Sara's shoulder and plucked the baby from her delicate grasp while Sara fished in the nearby basket for some milk she had pumped earlier. Lincoln quirked a brow when Michael puffed his cheeks at his son, soothing the youngster when he began to snivel and his bottom lip quivered.
"What, no boobs?" Lincoln grinned with a mouth full of soggy bread and Michael jiggled with a slight laughter. Sara shot him a glance and he dipped his head, blushing from her scold. Sara snatched the half empty can from his grasp, replacing it with a small bottle of breast milk. Sometimes she wondered how she coped with all three children.
"No thanks, I'm trying to give it up," he smirked, popping the lid from the bottle and rearranging a wiggly Cole so he was laying along his bare but tattooed arm, mouth gaping for the rubbery teet.
"Feed your son," she said sternly and Michael lifted the bottle to Cole's mouth, never taking his blue eyes from Sara. Their eyes spoke volumes, chapter after chapter of words that only they could hear. Michael's eyes were beyond intense, mesmerising on a level of greatness no one could ever match. When he smirked at her she melted inside, but outside she stayed strong. Reluctantly, Sara tore her eyes from his and let them fall onto his brother.
Lincoln flinched away from her when her hand flew out towards him. "You can finish this," Sara told him with a motherly tone, handing him Michael's beer can. The cool beer had caused the outside of the can to condense and tiny droplets of water slid from the shiny surface. Lincoln reached out and took the beverage slowly, unsure of Sara's next move.
"Hey, that's mine," Michael whined when Lincoln gave him a cocky grin.
"You don't need any alcohol mister," Sara said, shuffling back towards him and taking the almost empty bottle from their son's sleeping mouth. Cole continued to suck, his little pink tongue rippling in his mouth as he softly snored. Sara traced her fingers down Michael's arm, making all the hairs on his body prickle to attention. One of her hands cupped his while the other left his arm and found his palm, turning it over to her view. "Remember what happened last time?" she whispered, dragging her fingers over the freshly torn skin that had formed a long dark pink line as it healed.
Michael's eyes dropped to their hands, causing premature fireworks to ignite in his soul from her mere touch. He watched as her smooth fingertips fingered the half healed wound. The wound she had fixed and made better. Michael lifted his head to meet her gaze and her warm hazel hues told him she was right.
"Wow, it's getting late," Lincoln commented at his watch. "The fireworks will begin soon," he noted, looking around the park at how many new people had arrived. Couples walked hand in hand through the lengthening grass, while others had already sprawled themselves out over the greenness. A tall man with a spaniel attached to the end of a leather leash trundled past them, the greedy hound snatching part of Lincoln's sandwich he'd left on the blanket away from him in a swift action that warranted stunned silence.
Sara retrieved a tiny blue cardigan from underneath the stroller and Michael sat Cole in his arms. Cole's eyes rolled open briefly before they flickered shut once more, undeterred by his mother pulling his limp arms through the sleeves of the zip up top. The light around them was fading into dusk but the extended summer hours was keeping most of the warmth in the air and the people in the park kept multiplying by the second.
"Wow, a lot of people came," Michael commented scanning the crowds, baby Cole safely cradled in his arms and asleep, oblivious to the evening.
Sara and Lincoln busily folded the blanket up as if they were folding a sheet from the laundry and Sara tucked it into the now empty picnic basket. Closing the lid with a creak of wicker, she pushed the hamper under the stroller. Standing back upright, Sara moved to join Michael and Lincoln as they waited for the celebratory gunpowder blasts to hit the sky.
"Oh come on," Lincoln growled impatiently bouncing on his feet. "Get started already," he moaned before a flash of green lit up his face. A whistled followed the initial bang, and then another, and another, until the sky exploded into a canvas of illuminating sprinkles that fell to earth silently. Cole shook in Michael's arm, jolted awake by the sudden ringing in his tiny ears. His face searched the sky above him, seeing only darkened blues and his father's shirt. With a almighty breath, Cole cried.
Sara and Michael immediately tore their gaze from the skies and attended to their son. Cole's face was crinkled up, rippled forming on his brow as his mouth wobbled with each breath. His hands were clenched so tightly Sara though he might cut his palms with his fingernails and He arched his back from his father's body.
"Hey, hey," Sara soothed, taking him from Michael and pulling him to her chest. One of her hands came to cover his head, shielding his ears from the skyward noises while he wailed into her blouse. Sara bounced him up and down, swaying her body from side to side as she shushed him with a tender voice and a caring hand to his warm skin. As the fireworks continued, Cole cried louder.
Michael took in the frustration on Sara's face and she willingly relinquished their son to him. Michael held him to him, mimicking Sara's rocking actions only this time Cole was laid back in his father's arms. "Oh my goodness, those are real tears Cole," Michael soothed with baby talk, giving his son a comforting smile when his eyes peeled open long enough to stop crying. Cole's lip quivered and his heart pounded in his chest below Michael's hand.
"He's scared of the fireworks," Sara said, gathering her bag and planting two hands firmly on the stroller. "Let's go," she ordered and without hesitation, Michael fell into sync beside her as they made their way back to the car.
Michael paused and turned to Lincoln who was staring at them dumbfounded. "Are you staying?" Michael asked him; his voice slightly rose above Cole's crying and his ears straining to listen for a reply. Michael's face was scrunched into a frown where he couldn't distinguish Lincoln's words from Cole's screaming, the fireworks and the crowd's cries of admiration. With a sigh, Lincoln nodded.
Michael gave him a thumbs up and fell into step behind Sara as she pushed the stroller over the damp grass, the wheels suddenly becoming loose when they hit the parking lot concrete. The wheels stopped shaking and they glided smoothly over the hard surface, a light grainy sound filling the silent lot. As they arrived at the car, Michael strapped the screaming baby into his car seat and they all sunk into their seats with a sigh.
The metal shell of the car acted like a force field, closing out the sounds of the fireworks and instantly soothing Cole. Hs cries became shorter and his white knuckles relaxed, turning a softer shade of pink. His tiny body shook with each hitch of breath as he calmed down, salty lines staining his face where he had been really distraught.
Sara drove home. Half a can of beer was enough too much for Michael, even if his screaming son had sobered him up considerably on the way back to the car. The faint ticking of a clock was all they could hear when they entered the apartment. Sara cradled Cole in her arms and headed straight for the nursery while Michael plucked the kettle from its stand and filled in up at the sink. With a dull click, he set it to boil after replacing it on its circular base.
"There, there, we're home now," Sara whispered to Cole as she leant over the wooden bars of the crib and set him onto the soft mattress. He kicked out his legs, wiggling slightly on the softness before realising he was home and safe and his eyes fluttered closed. With an uninvited jolt, his eyes peeled open but fell closed immediately. Sara smiled at his twitch, smoothing a small hand over his white cotton vest that he has been stripped down to.
"How is he?" Michael whispered from the doorway where he leant against the frame lazily. Sara padded across the nursery floor and into Michael's awaiting arms that automatically received her like a lock floodgate received water. Michael wrapped his arms around Sara's waist and rested his lightly haired chin to the hollow in her neck.
"He's asleep," Sara whispered back, not taking her eyes from Cole's motionless form. She moved her hands so they laid on top of Michael, the heat of them both massaging their tired day from their muscles.
"Good," Michael smiled, planting a kiss to Sara's neck. Sara's eyes fluttered closed and she arched her body into Michael's, her own smile playing across her lips. "Want another one?" he suggested, his voice drizzling from his lips like melted wax from a candle as he planted more searing kisses to Sara's skin.
"No way!" she laughed on a breath and backed them out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.