Summer has always been her favorite time of the year no matter where she was; now, in New York City with her boys, she decides it couldn't get better.
They're spread out of a blanket in a shaded area of Central Park. Abe seems content gnawing away on a slice of watermelon with all of the seeds meticulously picked out, watching a dragonfly flutter past with great amusement.
Henry is carefully pouring out a couple of glasses of champagne, being sure to keep the sparkling liquid out of Abe's line of sight just in case he turns his head.
Abigail grins, unable to help it; her family is here, all together; no corpses in sight and no talk of figuring out a new way to die. She couldn't really ask for more; after her husband's last 'episode' with the illness, she'd been afraid Abraham would start avoiding him, but it seemed the boy had no problem being near his father, which was a relief.
She is broken out of her musing when Henry offers her the fancy glass, which she takes gratefully, clinking her glass to his before taking a sip of the sparkling liquid. She doesn't particularly like alcohol and hardly drinks, but a warm day like this one definitely calls for a drink like this.
"Momma, what's that?" pipes a little voice, startling her; Abe has decided now is the best time to turn around and stare at them curiously. Henry immediately hides the bottle within the basket, but the damage is already done; the four-year-old is now gazing at the beige liquid in his mother's glass with wide eyes as the bubbles fizz a little.
"This is… champagne, Abe," she explains slowly, looking over at her husband for backup, but he simply shrugs helplessly, and she suppresses a sigh. He still has no idea what he's doing when it comes to family.
"Can I have some?" Abe asks, enthusiastically crawling over to his mother's lap before she can protest.
Caught off guard and floundering for a way to say 'no' and not wound her child, she lifts her eyes pleadingly once again to Henry, who, thankfully, takes the initiative.
"Abe," he says, leaning forward to meet Abe's eyes when he looks at him, "How would you like to help me catch a dragonfly?"
"Wass' a dregoon-fly?" Abe asks, awestruck as he often is when Henry uses words he doesn't recognize.
"A dragonfly is that silly-looking thing," Henry says plainly, pointing at the insect that had once held his sons' attention. "It looks really interesting, huh? How about we catch it?"
"Yes!" Abe agrees instantly, crawling off his mother – thankfully not making her spill her drink – and takes off after the bug, Henry directly behind him; though he did send an apologetic glance Abby's way.
Not that she minds; watching her boys have fun is one of her favorite pastimes. She smirks at her glass of champagne for a moment. "Well, I suppose you're good for something aside from a splitting headache," she acquiesced, taking another sip.
A/N: Baby Abe being adorable and Henry being a good daddy by distracting his adorable son. Good times.
~Persephone