Futures and Frosting

A flash of color darts into the room and barrels into me.

 

“Mommy’s home!” Gavin cheers as I pick him up and start walking further into the house.

 

“Where’s Daddy?” I ask as I rub his back while he clings to me.

 

“He’s gettin’ ready for work.”

 

I walk into the bedroom and set him down on top of the bed, bouncing onto the mattress next to him. Gavin stands up and starts jumping up and down and singing.

 

“Woke up dis mornin’, got myself a gun!”

 

Before I can tell him to stop, Carter walks out of the bathroom, popping his head through the neck of a tee shirt and then pulling the material the rest of the way down over his stomach.

 

“Hey, baby,” he greets me with a smile as he makes his way over to the bed, leans over, and gives me a kiss. He lingers against my mouth and rubs his lips back and forth against mine before pulling away so he can look at me.

 

“Did you let our son watch 'The Sopranos' again today? I ask him with a raise of my eyebrows.

 

Carter laughs nervously and backs away. “No, why would you think that?”

 

Gavin stops bouncing on the bed and looks at Carter.

 

“Yes you did, Daddy. Don’t you wemember? Big Pussy cried and you called him a pansy-ass,” he says earnestly.

 

I look at Carter pointedly.

 

“And tell me you didn’t take him out in public today with that shirt on.”

 

We both look at Gavin’s shirt that boldly states, “They shake me.”

 

“I can neither confirm nor deny those rumors,” Carter says as he sits down next to me on the bed so he can put his shoes on. “Let’s just say we had lunch with Uncle Drew, and if I didn’t put the new shirt on Gavin that he bought him, there would have been a scene.”

 

“I’m pretty sure Gavin would have been fine if you refrained from putting him in that shirt,” I tell him.

 

“I’m not talking about Gavin. Have you met Drew?”

 

Gavin takes a leap off of the bed and runs out of the room. I scoot closer to Carter and rest my head on his shoulder. He lifts one arm and wraps it around my shoulder, pulling me against his side. He seems okay right now, so I figure there is no need to ruin the moment and ask him what his problem has been the past few days and if he still loves me.

 

“Sometimes I really hate that you work nights,” I tell him softly, wrapping my arms around his waist.

 

He turns and kisses me, easing both of us back onto the bed so we are laying in a tangle of legs and arms.

 

“You don’t have to lie. I know you like the peace and quiet during the week and having control over the remote,” he says with a smile as he brushes a piece of hair out of my eyes.

 

“You’re right, I do. But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It just means 'The Real Housewives of Orange County' can be watched without eye rolls and sarcastic comments. If anyone is going to judge Gretchen and Slade for their poor life choices it will be me,” I explain.

 

“Oh, that reminds me. I’ve got something for you,” he says as he pulled his arms out from around me and rolls onto his back so he can dig into the pocket of his jeans.

 

“Are you going to tell me that you have a present in your pants for me? Because I’ve got to tell you, I’ve been to that pants party a bunch of times. I almost got a concussion last time.”

 

Carter digs deeper into his pocket and huffs at me.

 

“It is not my fault I was unprepared for road-head. I thought you weren’t feeling good and were just going to put your head down in my lap. When a man’s penis suddenly makes an appearance in a moving vehicle on a Saturday night, an involuntary hip thrust WILL HAPPEN.”

 

He finally pulls his hand out of his pocket and holds it out to me, palm up.

 

“This is your present,” he says to me.

 

I look into his hand to see two small, orange, bell-shaped pieces of foam resting inside of a tiny plastic bag. I look at them quizzically trying to decide the correct response one should have when receiving something that looked like dresses for Polly Pocket dolls.

 

“Um, you shouldn’t have?”

 

Carter laughs at my obvious confusion.

 

“Oh I should have. Especially if I want to live through another night of sleeping next to you. These, my dear, are the best earplugs ever. They have bins and bins of them at work. If you like them, let me know and I’ll bring a bunch more home.”

 

He got me earplugs. He really DOES love me.

 

I take the bag from his hand and tear open the plastic with my teeth so I can pull the squishy orange plugs out and look them over. I roll one between my finger and thumb to shrink it, and then I push it into my ear.

 

I repeat the process with the other one and lie perfectly still as the foam slowly expanded until I can’t hear a single sound except for the whoosh of my breathing.

 

“THANK YOU SO MUCH, THESE ARE PERFECT!” I tell him.

 

At least I assume that’s what I said. To me it had sounded more like the teacher in a Charlie Brown cartoon.

 

Carter smiles and I see his mouth move.

 

“WHAT?”