The first thing Martha had noticed about Laramie was that he rarely cried. He'd squawk hungrily or squirm to hide his face if he was irritable, but he almost never cried. If he was startled, he'd simply stare into space with dark eyes wide as saucers. If he happened to get jostled or stumble while crawling, he'd simply look around for her attention, disoriented.
One of the few times he'd cried had been somewhat of his own fault. He'd crawled over to Malvina while the cat was asleep, and hugged her too tightly, and squealing in her ear, earning himself a scratch right across the face. It had done a bit more than startle him, and when he actually accepted it as pain, he began to bawl, fat tears rolling down his face, and Martha was quick to snatch him up and try to soothe him. At least he never bothered the cat after that.
When Martha had gotten back to work in housekeeping service, Laramie was still too young to be left at daycare, and Dante had to work long hours too. So on every day except for weekends, Martha would dress her son in his tiny sweaters, a sunhat, and whatever else the weather might need, and took him along to the houses that she'd clean on that day. For some houses, cooking would be requested. If Laramie got bored with the books or toys she provided him, she'd let him sit in the kitchen with her. Eventually, he found that more entertaining than anything else, and she took delight in gifting him his own little apron so he could be proud about helping his mother.
Granted, he was still much too little to do any actual cooking, but she wanted him to feel important in any way possible, whether it be cracking an egg, tossing in a tiny handful of flour, or even tasting things. The latter task ended up causing a pretty scary incident where Martha would discover her son was incredibly allergic to bell peppers. That doctor's visit had probably been enough to cause a few gray hairs.
On another occasion, she had been cleaning a house that just so happened to have a koi fish pond in the back yard. Martha had been almost certain Laramie was taking a nap until she heard the sound of a little child splashing through water out the window, and was initially horrified to see her child chest deep in the water, having managed to lift one of the large koi to his chest.
"Fishy!", he had cheered gaily to his mother once he saw her rushing over to him. Martha had to apologize to the homeowner while she swaddled her son in a third towel, and took him home early.
One day while shopping for new clothes in a secondhand store, Martha had been looking through a rack of shirts and sweaters for Laramie to start pre-school with, and she had glanced to make sure he was still by her side, as she had asked. Just as she had found some clothes, she heard a small crash in a nearby rack, and Laramie soon waddled over, proudly trailing a blue and yellow fish print dress behind him, unaware it was tangled in other coat hangers and clothes.
"Ma!", he beamed, "Fishy!"
Martha was going to be upset until he pushed the dress into her hands, trying to gift it to her. She happily accepted the $4.99 'present' of a dress once she had put away the rest of the clothes he'd knocked over.
Those parenting books weren't kidding when they said children could disappear in less than a second.
Laramie was certainly a troublemaker of sorts, but it was all done out of curiosity and being completely oblivious to the fact he was causing his mother at least one freak out a week, and for his father to slowly start losing his hair. Martha began to understand how stressful it must have been for her parents to raise her. After all, Laramie was proving to be capable of holy, but adorable terror.
They loved him all the same.
"Lars, your father just called me, he's going to be working late tonight, just thought you should know," Martha had called out half-heartedly as she returned home from her shop that day, and once again expected no answer.
"Ok, ma," a voice called out from the kitchen, which took Martha by surprise. Wandering in, she saw her son working away over the stove top, tossing vegetables to sizzle into a pan with one hand, and stirring a whisk into a bowl with the other one.
"Lars?"
"I looked up a new stir fry recipe that looked pretty good. I had to switch out the peppers with carrots, but it should turn out pretty good if I keep the meat from getting too burnt," he explained, then pointed to a glass dish of spices, "Hand me that?"
"O-Oh, uh-", Martha got over her surprise to pick up the dish and pass it over to him, watching him pour it in the pan.
"I made enough for dad when he gets home. I think it should heat up well in the microwave. And for his sake, I can just serve dessert later tonight when he's home."
"What's for dessert?", she asked.
"Brownies," Lars spoke up immediately, "...The regular kind," he gave a smug smile.
"...oh my god," his mother wheezed, and began to laugh, realizing how much of her sense of humor Lars had sometimes.
"Unless you want the other kind. Because I know how to make them!", he grinned.
"No no, we'll save that for when you're out of the house," she laughed softly, and began to put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher before Lars stopped her.
"I got this," he gave a thumbs up, not taking his attention off the cooking.
She sighed, giving a smile, "Alright," and reached over to hug him, expecting him to try and squirm out of it, but instead he just allowed it. He didn't return it, but he didn't resist it.
"You seem different...is that really my Lars in there?"
"Yes, it's me," he huffed, rolling his eyes, and pressed his forehead against her shoulder. He was still too proud to admit he'd been taking her and his father for granted. Too reluctant to apologize for it. The least he could do was stay in for the night, in their presence for at least a little while. The most he'd be willing to do was save her the trouble of making dinner for a family of three and end up eating it alone.
"I wanna thank you."
"For what?", she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"...For not spreading any of your fucking craziness onto me," he teased, giving a grin as he stood back up to full height, and snickered softly as she swatted his hair.
"You're exhausting, you know that?"
"Yeah," he smirked, a little wistful, "I know."
(Bonus Scene)
The next morning on his walk to work, Lars ran into Vidalia, the memories of what he'd read the day before still fresh in his head.
"Hey there, kiddo!", she smiled, "How've you been?"
"Uh...", he began, smiling awkwardly, "Great!"
"Cool, cool," she nodded, then smiled, "How's your mom been?"
What's that supposed to mean?!
"She's fine, we're fine, we're allll fine," he grinned widely, hoping Vidalia wouldn't catch on that he was fully aware of what really happened between them.
"Cool," she grinned, ruffling Lars' hair a little as she walked past him, "Tell her I said hi when you get a chance!", then headed off on her way.
Lars ran to work the rest of the way, trying not to scream.
