3?
Matt chuckled as he caught Lizzy wrapping a shirt. "Wow. Couldn't get more imaginative than that, huh?"
She glared at him. "I'll have you know that this is a very nice shirt!"
"Of course it is," Matt agreed.
"Well what did YOU get dad?"
"I haven't yet."
Her eyes widened. "You didn't get him a present yet?"
"Well, as you and Hilary Dude like to say – chill, Lizzie." He sauntered out of her room, whistling an annoying tune.
"It's DUFF!"
--
Jamie watched with a concerned eye as the bug feeder sprayed nuts on the wall. He frowned. "Okay, so that's not good."
--
Catherine chatted animatedly on the phone to Gil's mother, relieved that they had put a type text phone in place for just this purpose. They liked to share tales of the children, and Catherine enjoyed talking to someone who adored her husband as much as she did.
She was finalizing plans for Gil's birthday present, and was delighted to hear that Gil's mother was going to bring some more baby photos of Gil.
Max passed through the phone, Greg the dog following him. Catherine's eyes trailed after her son for a moment, but she was sure there wasn't anything nearby that could help Max cause any trouble.
She was wrong.
--
Having been bored the previous afternoon, Max had found himself flipping channels on the television. He settled on the food channel, finding that these people liked food as much as he did. There had been some fairly basic cooking recipes on the shows, including roasts, salads and desserts.
But it had been the Bombe Alaska that had taken Max's fancy.
To him, the idea of making a cake and then setting it alight was the epitome of cool. So he had gone out with his friend Ben to buy some ingredients.
Max considered himself a good boy. He'd asked his mother if he could make a cake, and she told him he could, as long as he asked an adult to do the stove for him.
Unfortunately, Max was also very impatient. And since his mother was on the phone, and the rest of the house was quiet, he decided he needed to take drastic action.
--
Gil careered into the emergency department of Desert Palm, anxious and pale. "Max Grissom! Where's Max?"
"Dad!"
"Lizzie!" Gil ran over to his daughter. "Where's Max? Where's your mother? What happened?"
"Dad, like chill. Max is totally fine, except he kind of singed off his eyebrows. He set the kitchen on fire! Mom's kitchen looks like a total hole, and she doesn't look too good either. I think…"
Gil raced past Lizzie the minute he saw Catherine sitting on a gurney. "Cath!"
She was pale, and there was a bandage on her hand, but more than anything, she looked a little shocked. When she saw him, her arms went around his neck. "Gil."
He held his wife tight against his body, rocking her for a moment. "Sweetheart, what happened? Lizzie was talking about your kitchen being set on fire and where's Max?"
"He's fine," Catherine murmured, patting her husband's back. "We're all fine, even Greg the dog. Max decided he was going to make a Bombe Alaska. He told me he was going to make a cake, and I foolishly said he could as long as he asked for help with the stove. I was on the phone and he didn't ask me and then he used your blowtorch to set his cake alight and well, he set the kitchen on fire."
"Oh god! How bad is he?"
"He's fine," Catherine assured him. "He singed off his eyebrows, so he's feeling sore and sorry for himself."
Gil's hand gently held her bandaged one in his. "And you?"
"Just a nasty burn," Catherine replied, letting him hold her again. "The smoke alarm went off when there was fire and I went in to make sure everyone was out." She took a deep breath. "God, Gil, he could have been killed! If he'd have put the stove actually on, instead of using the blowtorch first, it would have exploded!"
Gil's rocked his wife in his arms, pressing a deep kiss to her lips. "It's okay, Cath. You're all okay."
Catherine rested against him, closing her eyes. "Lindsey is watching Matt and Jamie outside, because we have Greg with us. The firemen sent us all up to the hospital to be checked, but we're all fine."
Gil kissed her again. "Let me go and see Max and I'll be right back, okay?"
Catherine leant on the gurney again. "Stay with him. I'm fine."
Gil touched her hand and went towards the next curtain, finding his son lying down and his head bandaged. "Max."
The little boy looked up at his father. "Dad, I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to set the kitchen on fire and hurt mom! I really didn't!"
Gil took his son's hand. "Shh, Max. I know you didn't. And your mom is just fine. Her hand is sore and she's in shock, but she's fine. We're just glad that everyone got out and is okay."
"Can we go home soon?"
Gil smiled, caressing his son's head. "Soon, Max. Soon."
--
Catherine lay curled up atop her husband. Her body was still warm from their lovemaking, and her bandaged hand lay near him, where he would lean occasionally to kiss it.
She'd spent some time in Max's room, just sitting and watching him sleep until Gil had come to get her. He'd told her that she needed to sleep, but she said that she couldn't – her mind was still on what had happened that day.
Gil had told that his mind was still on it too – and the terror he'd felt when he'd got the call and first seen them in the hospital. Then he'd touched her and it had all unraveled.
They'd made love slowly, Gil cherishing her and Catherine just desperate to be close to him again. Now, as they lay together afterwards, still as intimately connected as possible, he caressed her back, soothing her tired body.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice still husky.
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Exhausted but alert. Terrified but comforted. Scared but safe."
"He's fine, sweetheart." He kissed her lips softly. "And you're fine. And the insurance will cover the kitchen."
"It's not that," she whispered. "I'm his mother. I'm supposed to take care of him."
Gil looked at her, confused as to what she was saying. "Cath, I don't understand. You take great care of our kids."
"I should have made sure he was making a cake that was safe for him. I should have stopped him from getting the blowtorch – I almost killed him, Gil!"
"Hey." Gil's voice was firm and his hands cupped her face, making sure that she looked him in the eyes. "You are an amazing mother. Max had an accident. Granted, most kids don't burn down kitchens, but this is Max. We always knew he would be a handful. And what happened today is not your fault. It's not. Understand me?"
She nodded slowly and their lips met in a gentle kiss. Catherine lay down again on his chest and Gil resumed his stroking. He lifted her bandaged hand and pressed a kiss to it, before replacing it gently beside him.
"I love you, Catherine. More than anything. Don't ever forget that."
Catherine snuggled closer, closing her eyes. "I love you too, Gil."
--
