"Be really careful," Cal warned his six and a half year old. He had a glass of water in one hand, and a travel mug of coffee in the other. Cal had twenty month old Owen in the crook of his arm, resting on his hip, while he carried a plate of dried toast up the stairs in the other. Lewis was taking the steps one at a time, so he didn't spill the water. The only reason Cal let him carry the coffee, which he had put in a travel mug to protect all involved, was because Owen was still half asleep and refusing to walk. "And don't forget to be quiet," he added as they reached the top of the stairs. Cal nudged open the master bedroom door that he'd left ajar when he got up, and they all crept in.
"Shhh," Owen pressed his index finger to his lips.
"Yeah," Cal whispered. He followed Lewis around the bed to Gillian's side. She was still asleep, half buried under a pillow. She was naked under there, Cal knew, because she had practically ripped his underwear off him last night to shag him senseless. Cal put the toast down on the bedside table and Lewis put the water on a coaster that was already there and then he turned to his father with the coffee in one hand and a questioning 'wh?' hand. "There," Cal pointed beside the water. Lewis turned around again.
"Ready?" Cal asked him when he had deposited the other beverage safely. Lewis nodded assent. "Ready?" Cal asked Owen.
"Yes! Go!" Owen squirmed, apparently more awake now. Cal put him down on the mattress and he started to crawl up Gillian's calves while Lewis grabbed two handfuls of the bed cover to shake her and Cal leaned his weight on to the bed and shook the mattress. Gillian groaned and that only encouraged the boys who started calling out for her to 'wake-up!' She groaned louder in clear complaint, shifting beneath the weight of Owen, who was over her torso now.
"She's awake!" Lewis announced, attempting to use the blanket as a vine and climb it. Cal picked him up and dropped him over the other side. He turned her lamp on and then threw himself down on the mattress as well, squirming around his wife and sons to get to the middle of the mattress.
"What the hell?" Gillian grumbled. She emerged, sitting up, frowning, holding the blanket against her chest, even as Owen tried to pry it away again. "Owen, let go," she requested.
"Morning Mum!" Lewis shifted in closer to lean his head on her shoulder.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Gillian turned to her husband, who had propped his head up on his hand.
He grinned. "We brought you breakfast."
"And water Mum," Lewis added. He made a 'W' hand and pressed the fingers against his mouth, side on.
"Dink," Owen agreed. "A dink." He made an 'O' hand when it should have been a 'C' and brought it to his mouth, tipping it back like his hand was a cup to drink out of.
Gillian looked over to her bedside table. "And coffee," Cal added.
Gillian gave him a slight smile. "Dry toast?"
"Wasn't sure how you were feelin' afta last night."
"I'm fine," she told him dryly with a slight eye roll. "Owen, leave it," Gillian snatched the blankets back out of his grip. Owen gave her a screech and Cal reached forward to snag an ankle and drag the toddler away. Gillian kept her death grip on the cover.
"Mum you should have your toast," Lewis suggested. He stabbed a 'V' into the palm of his left hand, then the back of it. "I made it."
"Aw thank you Lewis," Gillian reached for it.
"Mum where are your pyjamas?" Lewis asked. He used 'night' and 'clothes'.
"Yeah Mum," Cal spoke up. He had pried some of her clothing from beneath her pillow after he woke up and before he went to get the boys.
Gillian shot him a deathly glare.
"I want!" Owen crowed, shoving his way out of his father's grip. He shuffled his way across his mother's legs again and she winced as his weight made sharp pressures points against her bones.
"It's not for you," Cal caught him again and pulled him closer. Owen started kicking so Cal started tickling and over the noise of his loud squeals and breathless laughter Gillian couldn't be heard. Cal wondered if she actually answered Lewis's question.
"No!" Owen gasped and Cal let up.
"Had enough?"
Owen nodded, gasping, waving an arm weakly.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!" Owen nodded and struggled to pull himself up. Cal grabbed him by the hand to sit.
"And then I came home," Gillian finished. She had also finished her toast and leaned over to put her plate back.
"All right," Cal announced. "Showa time."
"You, you," Owen told him, patting his arm. "With you."
"All right, you can have a showa with me," Cal told him. "And Lewis?" Cal asked. The sign for 'shower' was like imitating the water coming out of the nozzle.
"Yes please," Lewis agreed, eyes wide with enthusiasm.
"All right. You boys go down the hall to your bathroom and get your towels." Cal did a one handed 'towel' sign, mimicking pulling a towel back and forth along his neck like he was drying it. Lewis nodded and butt-shuffled over the mattress to the edge of the bed. "Take Owen with you," Cal gave the toddler a nudge to go with his brother. Owen half crawled, half walked, half stumbled to the edge, then sat and slid to the ground. Lewis waited for him and together they walked to the door. "That should give us ten minutes," Cal quickly turned and scooted himself towards his wife. He smothered his body over hers and she half heartedly fended him off. "Are you hangin' ova my darlin'?" He pressed a kiss against her neck.
"No," she mumbled.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Cos last night was..." He pulled back to see her eyes.
Gillian looked a little abashed. "Did I hurt you?"
"Shoulder's feelin' a little tenda."
"Show me."
Cal pushed himself back, straightened up and pulled his shirt off, turning to show his wife his right scapula. "Hang on," Gillian told him, turning into the light of her bedside lamp. She winced.
"It's bad?"
"It's pretty messy." Gillian pulled back the sheets on his side of the bed and there were traces of blood there too. She placed a hand on top of his shoulder, stroking his skin. She had scratched a hash tag deep into his flesh. "Sorry."
Cal turned his head back and gave her a grin. "Was totally worth it."
Gillian gave him a shy smile. "Yeah."
Cal leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. He could taste the stale alcohol on her breath. She had gone out last night with some friends. Now that Owen was weaned Gillian considered it a small step towards freedom. Or at least she had her body to herself again. Sort of.
"You're fun when you're half cut. You should go out more often," Cal suggested.
Gillian pulled him against her, collapsing his arms and hugging him tightly around the neck. "Not when I get woken up with the reception I received today."
Cal chuckled. "You're welcome."
"Dad," Lewis called him away. "You're not even ready!"
Cal turned to see Lewis, with his towel bundled up in a ball in front of him, and Owen, who was dragging his towel on the ground, waiting expectantly. "I am ready," he countered. "You've still got your pyjamas on. Go turn the warta on and get undressed." He made a flicking motion of his fingers and then 'dressed'. The boys rushed for the bathroom and Cal turned back to his wife. "Wanna join us?"
"All four of us in there? There'd be no room and no water."
Cal pouted. "All right then. Drink your warta and your coffee."
Gillian gave him another unimpressed expression. "I'm not hung over."
"All right," Cal agreed softly. He shifted off the bed and Gillian lay still, watching him go. The mark on his shoulder was pretty impressive. She might have been pissed last night but she did remember coming home and him opening the door like he had been waiting for her and he just looked so cute, like he had just woken up or something, his hair sticking up and his eyes husky. She wanted him. So badly she was pretty sure she fell all over him as soon as she stepped up on the stoop. She remembered taking off his clothes and most of hers and how he had to practically carry her upstairs because she could not stop giggling and kissing him. And oh god the sex. The sex was always so good when they had been drinking, either one of them, or both. It didn't seem to matter.
Gillian heard the rumble of Cal's voice through the wall as he directed the boys into the shower. He had pushed the bathroom door slightly closed. When she heard the shower door bang shut she reached over for the water and drank it. Cal had also put a bottle of aspirin by her bed too and she popped out a few and swallowed them down. Then she reached for her coffee and took the lid off to let the comforting aroma out. Ugh, she so had a hangover.