Indwelling

Obed

He walked into a mess—a happy mess, one full of much laughter and much sighing—but it was a mess all the same. Coming home from work, Obed put his key through the lock, opened the front door and instantly he started to laugh. His daughter had turned into a ghost and his wife was just as white with disbelief and exasperation.

Knowing the look well, Obed moved into his apartment, closed the door and made a b-line for the little imp. She had successfully invaded their refrigerator finding for herself the pancake batter they had stored there the day before. Pancake batter was everywhere, the floor, the door, her hair, clothes and smile. She was laughing. The little imp was still laughing when he picked her up instantly moving to douse his blue dress shirt with white hand prints the shape of upside strawberries.

Obed kissed her then scolded. "Now little brat, pancakes are for breakfast not dinner." The baby just sputtered and smiled and then promptly kissed him back. Now he was the ghost.

"Someone needs a bath."

Hearing her voice, Obed turned and eyed his wife. She was smiling—well sighing—well sighing and smiling as she moved to grab a wash cloth. She didn't see the light of a bedroom door tip toe down the hall. Obed smiled a little an idea popping. "Do you want to have breakfast?" he asked her. "Why don't you make pancakes?"

His wife tilted her head unaware of the two feet slipping out from between the two walls of a half-empty hallway.

"We could have an upside-down breakfast. George Senior used to have those all the time." Obed eyed his son prompting his wife to pause and look back at him. "Do you want to help, George? I believe pancakes where your father's favorite, yes?"

"And instantly, he moved," Obed pondered out loud. "He went to you just like that. No sound, no smile, but still he came and cooked with you. No problems. That was more interaction that we've gotten out of him since I don't know when. Unbelievable." Obed eyed his wife who was looking at their mirror, well more accurately, eyeing herself in their mirror.

"You forget I was with you dear. I know what happened." Grendel murmured absently as she stared at her stomach. It was a usual stance, one he had seen many times, one he knew from experience not to speak of or interrupt. He countered her softly.

"You worry more than I do about that boy's condition. I am amazed you aren't as awestruck as I am."

"I am awestruck," she said. Well she… "I also couldn't get how we had so much pancake batter left. We used most of it the other day. Even after we were done eating, it looked like we hadn't touched it all—do I look bigger to you?"

Obed eyed her gently. "Sweetheart," he said. After a moment, his eyes filled with that emotion she despised.

"No really, Obed," she growled, well sputtered, well growled sputtered. Immediately, she fixed her clothing and moved to get into bed. "It's just that I've been gaining weight and I'm late, you know, LATE LATE. Maybe…"

Obed rolled over, turned off the light and held her from behind. He kissed her shoulder quietly.

"I know you don't believe me, but…" she trailed off. In the dark, Grendel bit her lip.

"We could go tomorrow. I'll call Rose and see if she's available."

Grendel sighed, "You don't have to humor me." She muttered. She grumbled. She hoped silently.

"I will go with you. We can get a sitter. It's just two hours. If I can get the whole day off, maybe we could make a day of it. You know, you and me?"

Grendel rolled over and stared at her husband.

"I know what you're thinking," Obed answered.

"I want…"

"I know," he answered. "I know."

-Calla