It was miraculous that a screaming curse hadn't escaped past his lips, after Able stepped upon a jagged piece of lego. The searing pain rocketed from the bottom of his heel to the base of his throat, and he swallowed it back to drown in his gut full of fiery whiskey, and pissy beer. The young father squeezed the stems of the flowers bundled in his hands, and let out a slow exhale, desperate to avoid making a sound and waking the household. The mere creak of the door, and jingle of his keys, had sent his nervous system haywire.
It was well past three in the morning and Able had returned home from the gig hammered. The show had been extraordinary, and night had gone far later than expected. Hours of deep conversations with colleagues and young touring musicians backstage crept to last call at the dives next door. Caught in the midst of a wonderful, nostalgic evening, he'd lost track of himself and the impending morning. It wasn't until he'd been dropped off at the top of his street that he remembered that they were hosting a Mother's Day breakfast for Magema's family in a few short hours. The exquisite array of flowers in his neighbour's gardens triggered a sobering reminder that he hadn't come up with anything thoughtful for his Gema. Guided by the mischievous influence of the downed spirits, he circled the block, and made a bouquet of borrowed blossoms wherever there was an abundance.
The soft clip of nails ticked down their hardwood stairs as Rosetta came to greet him. Able's eyebrows raised in concern, and his core cringed anticipating her happy barks. Thankfully his scent was familiar enough to contain her, and he only had to battle away her damp happy kisses from his soily palms. Able muted Rosie's collar with his hand as he crouched and scratched behind his sweet old pup's ears, returning her welcome while the delirious dog wagged away. Aside from his throbbing foot Able was in good humour, and limped towards the kitchen.
With care he shut their sliding door behind him to muffle as much of his snacky foraging as possible. Before plundering the refrigerator, he grabbed a treat for the friendly bandit at his heels. An affectionate pat on her head sent a tumble of small black hair to the tiles. Able winced, and released an exasperated sigh. Tomorrow was a big day, and cleaning dog fur would only add to the list.
He knew he should crawl into bed beside Magema and rest up. But he could not stop thinking of a nice, long, steaming shower. His skin was still covered in filmy sticky sweat and spilt beer from all the moving around at the show. It had been a rowdy one, and Able couldn't help himself from getting upfront, fringing on the mosh pit. The clock read three twenty one. Much too late to run the water.
He took his deliberations to the glow of the fridge light as he scavenged for leftovers. A tupperware of cold linguini was the win he'd been looking for, but fell short of the victory found in another cheeky bottle of beer. The hiss of carbon escaping the cracked lid only gave his smile a momentary wince. A few strained seconds of pause later, with no audible damage done to the sleeper's dreams, he sipped away and fetched a fork. Able popped in his headphones and began Whatever You Love, You Are by the Dirty Three while he ate, and thought of what to do.
The clock rolled as he scrolled through his phone, until with great effort he divorced himself from its hypnotic hues. With a short amount of time to sleep, and a giant to-do list, he decided to give in. That the best course of action would be an all nighter. He'd have a head start on the morning's chores, and the chance to give Magema the kind of appreciation she deserved. The children were still too young to be of any real help. There was a lot to be done, and if he didn't make a concerted effort, Magema wouldn't be able to stop herself from getting involved in the preparations for her family's visit. Her sister was in from out of town, and parents headed over- always prone to arrive well before their ETA. A quiet head start would be a godsend. And if he played his cards right, he might be able to snag a nap during their visit.
Efforts had begun in the days prior, and Able was by no means starting from scratch. He began preheating the oven, and moved to the freezer, pulling out some prepped pastries, and frozen berries to thaw. While everything warmed, he bundled his flowers from the counter, rinsed the evidence of sediment from their stems, and placed them in a glass pitcher. Gaining momentum, Able nudged his music a few enthusiastic notches louder and organized a prep tray, slicing onions, cutting capsicums, peeling potatoes, grating cheese, chopping chives, and dicing together a fruit salad. In a large mixing bowl he tossed a few cups of steel cut oats, cinnamon, vanilla, then raided their baking drawer for nuts. With a few diced pecans, pistachios, and almonds, a dash of maple syrup, and a healthy dose of coconut oil mixed, Able transferred his granola to a pan and fired it into the broiling inferno. He mixed dried fruit and toasted coconut together, ready to finish the dish, took a long pull from his beer, and set a timer.
With the minutes counting, Able looked for something else to fill the time before he turned the baking oats. Rosetta's dreaming tail batted against the tiles, and answered the call before his phone's riptides could suck him away again. He grabbed a broom, and started on the floors. A trail of dusty piles led from the kitchen to the dreaded family room, and awaiting Lego apocalypse. With the light dimmed he tackled the minefield, returned the discarded multicoloured blocks to their containers, and placed his children's creations safely on display with care. The remaining toys were tidied, remotes lined up, throw pillows set, and blankets folded. From his backpocket the alarm vibrated, summoning him back to the kitchen to flip his granola, and press the pieces into pleasing clumps before he could be tempted to rest his eyes on the cozy couch cushions.
A minute away from four's final quarter, there was still well over an hour to fill. Another alarm set, Able wandered the first floor to find other ways to make the house sparkle for Magema. Love overcame his reluctance to tidy the bathroom. The mirror wiped, toilet scrubbed, counters cleared, and soaps refilled the space was fresh for their guests. He collected the kid's hidden homemade presents, cradling their crafts to the kitchen, and placed them beside his bouquet in the water pitcher. Inspired by the rugrats, he sought after a piece of ribbon to tie the stems together for a final flourish. A little longer left on the timer, Able debated whether it was too early to start the coffee. He could certainly use one, but was loath to have a fresh pot sit for hours before the others arrived. It seemed evident that the kindest thing to do would be to quench his thirst with another well deserved brewski.
Less precious about about his time Able saddled up at island and enjoyed his suds. As he sipped he reflected on how much he cherished his Gema. As much as the thought made him cringe, he couldn't wait for the excuse to celebrate her as a mother. He found it odd that many looked to the holiday as way for children to express their gratitude, when he, their father, her husband, was drowning in it, and in many ways, the most grateful of them all. Perhaps it was was the hops that stirred the emotions, but more probable the gentle gravity of the day, and enormity of her role. An integral part of his family's foundation, he was so thankful to have her beside him. One he trusted more than his own senses, helping raise children that he loved more than his own being. He hoped that recognition of his appreciation for her could be felt through his small gestures, and worried he'd never be able to express its magnitude in full. The timer cut through the sap, and startled Able back to the oven.
Rosetta shook beside him, climbed off the floor and placed her head upon his leg seeking attention. Light washed the horizon, the sky beginning its change as the sun whispered its rise. Lost in thought, Able scratched Rosie behind her ears. Getting her morning walk out of the way would alleviate one more thing. That said, it would also subtract an excuse for a breather from his in-laws. He debated the pros and cons while he polished off his beer. The dog definitely could use exercise, and he needed a shower. He calculated a little selfcare into his equation. If he ran instead, he'd sober up a dash, and by the time they returned home it would be late enough to run the shower. Rosetta would be taken care of, he'd feel great, could start the coffee, rinse, and bang around in the kitchen without stressing about waking anyone. Feed two birds with one scone. Besides, no one needed to know that Rosie went out, and if he needed an escape later, he'd treat the dog again.
Able crept to the garage to collect his gym clothes, and smelly sneakers. He changed in the dark while Rosie watched from the door. Leash in hand, the jubilant pooch came bounding over, thrilled about their morning adventure. Together the pair stole into the rising light. An opportunity to stretch was seized while Rosetta relieved herself on the mailbox, leaving her mark to other wandering neighbourhood dogs, and they were off.
The air was thick with the morning bloom, cool, and fresh on Able's skin. Through his nose he inhaled the dawn, and shook the evening's gathering dust from his limbs. Impatient, Rosie glared and pulled at the lead while he paused to change the music to something more lively. Birds sang, weight lifted, everything was in its right place, and it felt good knowing he was doing good. It wasn't easy to include himself while taking care of the household.
They greeted early risers as they passed, Rosie with her tail, Able with a nod. A pause at the dog park found Rosie a quick gulp, and a visit with her furry friends. Both made small talk with their respected regulars, while the Sun continued his climb. As he reattached her leash by the chain link fence, Able did his best to ignore the greying hairs on Rosetta's snout. They jogged onwards, with a slower pace, mindful of his aging friend. It was close to half six, and more than enough time had passed for Able to excuse cutting their regular route a little short.
Arches of water from sprinklers over sidewalks and twinkling lawns welcomed their return. Able popped the latch to the backyard, and cleared away scattered toys and balls, while Rosie cooled off stretched out in the shade. Inside, he popped on the coffee machine, started warming the ovens again, and made his way upstairs. Quiet and careful with the door handle, Able spied into their bedroom. Their duvet rose and fell as sweet Magema dreamed beneath. Satisfied he hadn't disturbed her, Able finally peeled off his sweaty, clinging clothes, and ran the shower. Ready to let the house rise with him, and celebrate his children's mother.
Thanks for reading! Be sure to dig deeper into the lives of the The Haés
-Mr. Write