September 1992 – 4 years old
Remington, robe hanging open, rubbed at his eyes as he stepped into Sophie's room, prepared to wake the girls for their first day of Kindergarten. He and Laura had come to an agreement some days before that she would get Holt up and ready for the day, while he dressed the girls, then they would switch out: Holt would accompany him to the kitchen where he'd prepare breakfast and pack the girls' lunches while Laura did the girls' hair and had them gather their backpacks of school supplies. He was more than fine with that: She would expertly handle the chaos, while he peacefully moved their day forward behind the scenes, so to speak.
In his eyes, it was yet another example of how they complemented one another as parents.
He rubbed at his eyes again, and blinked several times as his sleep saturated mind tried to take in what he was seeing.
Or more specifically what he wasn't seeing…
Both of the beds were disheveled… and empty, save for Prince Charming who was contentedly curled up on Sophie's pillow, eyeing Remington as though asking why he dared disturb his peaceful slumber. With a frown in the direction of the cat that perpetually left hairs all over his otherwise pristine apparel, he stepped through the adjoining door into Livvie's room. Empty as well. A look towards first Livvie's bathroom then Sophie's showed doors wide open and lights off.
What in the devil? Surely they've not hared off to play on the first day of school?
Turning on a heel he headed towards the stairs. Halfway through his descent he heard laughter and indiscernible chatter coming from the area of the kitchen below, and a smile graced his face. Waiting to help Da with breakfast, then. While preparing Saturday morning breakfast and Sunday brunch together had become quite the tradition for him and the children, he hadn't planned on it this morning. Perhaps, in light of the special occasion, they might be able to fit in preparation of an omelet and fresh fruit, he mused.
His feet sputtered to a stop at the doorway of the kitchen. His smile wobbled, then disappeared. His ability to speak, seemingly fled. Wide-eyed, he scrubbed at his face with his hand, as he stared at the utter destruction of his normally pristine kitchen.
Eggs and their shell counterparts, fully separate from one another, adorned the island. Pieces of lettuce adorned island and floor. Tomato juice trailed over the surface of the counter, while a container of blueberries was scattered hither and yon. Flour coated nearly every surface and filled two bowls. Measuring cups filled with milk and water congregated on island and counter next to the sink. An open jar of peanut butter and another of strawberry jam had spoons protruding from them, smears and trails of the sticky substances mixing with all else. Smoke was beginning to billow from the toaster. And in the mix of it all, a pair of flour dusted, red and purple speckled little girls, working together to smash a tomato flat, giggling with abandon as the fruit sprayed its juices at them with each push, each pounding.
Swallowing hard, he pushed a single word past his lips.
"Lau-ra!" he hollered.
A pair of bright green eyes and dazzling blue eyes landed on him.
"Look, Da! We helped make breakfast!" Livvie announced proudly.
"And to make our lunch!" Sophie chimed in, equally excited. His mouth mimicked the movements of a fish for several long seconds, before he managed to push fewer than a half dozen words past his lips.
"So I see." He turned his head towards the stairway to yell again, "Laura!", then strode quickly towards the toaster to relieve it of its contents.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Laura called back from above. Tossing the toast into the trash, he watched, mouth agape, as Sophie brought a curled fist down onto the tomato in front of her.
"Has the tomato done something to offend you?" he couldn't help but ask. Sophie grinned at him as though he was silly to even ask such a question.
"It's too big for my sammich," she explained, as though the reasoning was self-explanatory.
"And we can't touch knifes," Livvie reminded him. He held a hand pressed to his mouth as he slowly shook his head, then parted his fingers to respond.
"No. No, you can't."
"You bellow—" Laura's sarcastic greeting was cut short with a breathy, "Oh, my," as she took in the chaos. He looked upon her with a pained, stunned expression.
"We helped Da make breakfast," Livvie informed her.
"And lunch," Sophie once again added. Laura's fingers stroked her throat, her tongue moistened her lips, as her eyes flickered from Remington to the girls then back to her husband. That he hadn't devolved into yelling at and haranguing the girls spoke volumes about the character of the man she had married, but given the absence of color in his skin there was every possibility he might be having heart palpitations at that very moment.
"Girls, go upstairs and get cleaned up. You don't want to be late for your first day of kindergarten," she instructed calmly.
"School!" Livvie screeched, happily.
"Yay!" Sophie cried out, hopping with enthusiasm, forgetting all about the sandwich in front of her. "Come on, Livvie," she ordered, grabbing at her sister's hand. The two girls ran from the room as Laura's eyes followed them. When they could be heard clomping up the steps, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then approached the shocked man standing across the kitchen. She lay a soft palm against his chest and tried, in vain, to squelch the laughter in her eyes.
"Are you alright?" she asked. His eyes wandered around the room.
"My kitchen, Laura." Three words, conveying paragraphs.
"I've seen you make a bigger mess while preparing for a dinner party," she half-fibbed. It wasn't uncommon to see a collection of bowls, measuring cups, pots and pans scattered about, but he was absolutely fastidious about cleaning up drips and drops of anything.
"A blatant falsehood if ever I've heard one," he sniffed in indignation, his brows knitting together in a frown. Patting her hand on his chest, she smiled up at him.
"Go upstairs, get dressed, get the girls dressed as originally planned, and by the time you come back down, your kitchen will be as good as knew," she promised. He peered around the room skeptically.
"A task no mere mortal could accomplish, even yourself," he groused, with a pouting expression on his face. With a lift of her eyes heavenward, she grasped his upper arm and gave it a tug.
"Go," she ordered. "We'll sit the girls down tonight and discuss not 'cooking' alone, as well as respect for other people's belongings. "In the meantime, it's their first official day of school. Let's make it a good one, huh?" He dragged his feet on the way to the doorway, determined to maintain his pout. Her lips lifted in a lopsided smile, and she reached out and palmed a firm buttock. He spun around, brows lifted.
"First, my kitchen is vandalized," he summarized, and stepped towards her, she stepped backwards. He followed, a determined look on his face. "Then my wife all but dismisses my concerns about the wanton destruction that has occurred there. And now," he elongated the words, as he neatly trapped her against the counter with his body, "She assaults my person?" he feigned offense. Undeterred, she lifted her brows in return at him, and skimmed her hand down his chest.
"Well, it is a rather nice person…" He grinned at the compliment. Clasping her hips in his hands, he bent his head downwards.
"Only… nice?" he asked, fishing for a compliment. She tipped her head from side-to-side.
"Slightly better than average?" she teased. He should have known better if he believed she might give his ego a full blown stroke.
His lips pursed with amusement in the heartbeat before they covered hers. He didn't drop a chaste peck on those lips, either. With a hum, an arm slipped around her waist, a hand cupped the back of her head, and after a few teasing nips of his teeth, his tongue slipped past her lips to savor her flavor.
"Mommy and Da are always kissing," Livvie huffed. Their lips parted and a pair of heads turned in unison to eye their first born with her partner in crime standing at her side, grinning.
"Back upstairs, girls," Laura ordered, with a swipe of her hand in that general direction. "Da is going to get dressed then will be in to help you."
The duo disappeared again, in a trail of giggles. Laura took advantage of Remington's momentary distraction and slipped away.
"Go!" she directed, a finger pointing towards the doorway.
"Pleasure. From where I stand, the day has suddenly taken a decidedly upwards turn." He darted his head in to quickly buss her on the cheek as he passed.
She was smiling as she turned to survey the damage and decided where to begin. As she removed spoons from the peanut butter and jelly, she ruminated on how much longer she might be able to use a gentle stroke of the ego, a bit of flirtation to improve her husband's mood. They'd been married for six years, after all, and it still worked like a charm. While she emptied the measuring cups of milk and water into the sink, she conceded she had no idea… but it would certainly be fun to continue testing to see if the date of expiration had arrived.
TBC in Vignettes of Steele: Sophia