The kids have been bothering Lucy for two things all day – to carve pumpkins, and for Goldfish crackers.
Well, that's not true. Thegirlsare nagging her to carve pumpkins. Her son, the youngest of the three, is the only one who wants Goldfish.
But he really wants Goldfish.
Tim's supposed to be home with the pumpkins anytime now, and he's bringing them lunch so she puts him off of his crackers as long as she can. His appetite is miniscule and he's the pickiest eater of all of them and if he eats Goldfish right now, he will absolutely not eat any of the sandwich that's coming his way.
"Mommy!" his voice calls for no less than the thirtieth time that morning. "Can I have Goldfish?"
Lucy takes a deep breath.
"Baby, Daddy's going to be home soon with your lunch."
"I'm hungry," he insists. "Goldfish, please?"
Lucy sighs and opens the fridge. "How about an apple?"
"Mommy I want goldfish!" That's time thirty-three. At least.
"When's Dad getting here?" her seven-year-old asks from the table where she's drawing a Halloween picture.
"Soon."
"Goldfish, please!"
"All right!" Lucy finally relents in exasperation. "A few!" And to her confusion her son bursts into tears just as Tim enters from the garage.
"Daddy!" he cries, running to Tim and grabbing his legs, causing Tim to grunt and almost drop the pumpkin he's holding. "Daddy," he wails through his tears.
"What happened?" Tim asks setting the pumpkin down on the island and lifting his son into his arms.
"Mommy tell meeff you," he sobs through crocodile tears.
"What?" Lucy gapes in shock. "No, I didn't!"
"She told him 'a few,'" their oldest daughter clarifies for her father with a laugh, having watched the whole exchange from the table. She doesn't even bother to look up from her coloring, a look of concentration and amusement on her face that Tim completely recognizes asLucy. "She told hima fewgoldfish."
Tim snorts. "How does he even know what eff you means?" Tim wonders with a laugh.
"That'syour concern right now?" Lucy wonders in astonishment. "Our son thinks I was cursing at him!"
"Mommy saida few, buddy," Tim tells him gently as he smooths a hand over his hair and the crying ceases immediately. "She didn't say eff you. She saida few."
"I want a few!" he agrees excitedly, and then Tim sets him down in a chair at the table to get the Goldfish.
"Oh my God, what kind of mother am I that he thinks I'd curse at him?" Lucy asks in despair, sitting down at the island and putting her head in her hands.
"Lucy. Stop," Tim says with a laugh, reaching over to rub her back. "He's over it."
"He thinks I would tell him 'eff you,' Tim."
"He's three."
"All the more concerning!"
"Baby. Last week he told everyone at preschool that I'm a vampire."
Lucy sighs. "I think that's better than thinking I told him eff you."
"Can wepleasecarve pumpkins now?" the middle child's impatient voice cuts through the conversation suddenly as she runs into the room and skids into the table, causing all of her sister's colored pencils to fall to the floor with a clang and Lucy sighs.
"Lunch first," Tim says, opening the bag of Subway sandwiches. "Pick those up, please," he adds to his daughter as he kisses Lucy on the check. He can sense her overwhelm from the morning. It's not like her to get so worked up over something so tiny unless she's worn down. He gives her shoulder a squeeze and rubs it gently. "Go take a shower. I'll get them started with the messy part. Relax for a little bit."
She nods, thankful for him as always.
After a shower and some lunch in peace, Lucy feels a lot better.
Tim's corralled the three kids into the backyard where all four of them are up to their elbows in pumpkin guts at the patio table, two of the kids loving it and one of them absolutely hating it.
Lucy joins in to help them cut out their designs – she introduces them to a trick she'd seen online where you can use cookie cutters to easily carve out perfect shapes on the pumpkins and the kids have a blast making elaborate designs and patterns.
"What's with that one?" she asks Tim, noticing that he'd set one pumpkin off to the side.
"Nothing." he says instantly, and she knows he's up to no good.
She forgets about the abandoned pumpkin through the chaos of dinner and bedtime, and once they're done with the nightly routine with the kids, she finds Tim at the kitchen island with the remaining pumpkin, in deep concentration and biting his tongue as he focuses.
"I knew you were up to something," she accuses and he jumps, startled.
"Jesus, Lucy. Don't scare me like that when I'm holding a knife."
"My bad. I thought you were a cop with cop reflexes," she retorts with a chuckle and runs a hand over his back. "What are you doing?"
He turns his pumpkin towards her with a proud, smug expression and she's torn between laughing and hitting him.
"You're the worst," she says immediately, but a laugh escapes her lips as she sees the letters F U carved into the pumpkin.
"What?" he feigns innocence.
She shakes her head, steps forward between his legs into his arms that open willingly for her. "Don't let the kids see that."
"Apparently they already know bad words," he says as he tugs her closer to kiss her softly.
"I can't believe you're cursing at me on a pumpkin," she mutters before he pulls her lower lip into his mouth in a much less gentle kiss.
"No, baby," he says, and his voice is low and gravelly and she knows his mind has gone somewhere else. "It's not a curse. It's a promise."
"A promise?" she asks, and she can already feel the anticipation budling.
"For what I'm going to do to you tonight."
"Ohmy God," she says with a breathless laugh at his words as he reaches around her and gives her a squeeze, pulling her close to him as Tim laughs into the kiss.
(And when one of the kids finds the pumpkin in the morning and puts it on the front steps for all their neighbors to see for two entire days before it's noticed, well… they don't discuss that.)