Omission

Erupt

5:07 a.m. was far too early in the morning to be awake. It was especially far too early to have already been up for an hour. But that's motherhood, Sharon thought, taking a first sip from her third cup of coffee. Some PBS cartoon played on low volume on the television while her youngest son tinkered with his blocks. Andy was acting more subdued than usual, which, as guilty as she felt for it, relieved her, considering how exhausted she was when he woke up in an upset fit.

Sharon's youngest was recovering from an ear infection, so when distressed cries came from his room, she knew getting any additional sleep was a hopeless cause.

And even through her eyes heavy with sleep, yawns coming as frequently as breathing, and a slight annoyance that their dog was getting a better night's rest than her, Sharon did treasure times that she was able to spend alone with each of her children.

With four kids, quality time with each of them could come too few and far between, especially as they got older.

Light, pattering footsteps on the tile floor in the foyer told Sharon that her and Andy were no longer the only ones awake in the house. And judging by the muted footfalls, Sharon knew with a twist in her gut that it could only be her mother.

Sharon savored the last few moments alone with her youngest son while she heard the coffee being poured.

"What is my littlest grandson doing up so early?" Ellen said in a hushed tone, looking every bit of the warm mother that Sharon remembered from her own distant childhood.

Andy looked up from his impressive collection of blocks, his subdued demeanor giving way to glee at seeing his grandmother.

"Nanny!" He flew up and ran to Ellen, immediately grasping her hand and pulling her toward his play spot on the floor.

"Come see my castle Nanny. Itsa'mazing" Ellen let herself be led by the toddler, oohing and ahhing at his "castle" and suggesting he use the purple blocks next. Once Andy was fully entrenched in his purple blocks assignment, Ellen first backed away slowly, and once she realized her absence went unnoticed, she moved back quicker and sat on the couch near Sharon.

"What's got him up so early?" Her mother's sounded like they'd never fought once and that no conflict existed between them. Letting herself believe the lie, if only just to feel for a single moment like they had a good relationship, Sharon smiled at Ellen.

"His ear infection is still bothering him. I'm sure he'll be exhausted later."

"Poor baby," Ellen replied before the pair fell into a comfortable, early-morning silence. At this time in the morning, with the sun not even making an attempt at rising, silence was easier than any alternative.

Mother and daughter just sat and observed Andy as his castle grew taller and taller, sipping their coffees and not thinking about the arguments and conflicts that separated them so severely. The silence was so comfortable for Sharon that she was spooked when Ellen disturbed it.

"I'll never understand how you can look at one son with so much tender care and love while you mistreat and neglect another."

The statement was so jarring, and yet still spoken so civilly that Sharon had to second- and third-guess herself to make sure she'd heard it correctly.

Ellen didn't wait for her to catch up and formulate a reply, staring at Sharon icily.

"Riley didn't want to go last night, and when I asked him why, he said he was worried about being on your bad side."

That surprised and hurt her with the severity of setting her hand on a burner she didn't know was hot. Her baby was afraid of her? That was so far from what she wanted to accomplish by grounding him.