What We Deserve

Part 77: What Could Be Done?

I sat up with Joel for a while last night.

We didn't talk much after the initial release of his pain.

We simply sat on the sofa and stared at the bookshelves.

Every so often, I noticed him wipe a stray tear from his cheeks, but I don't think it was out of pain or anger.

I feel it was out of relief.

Relief that it's all officially over.

I had made my way upstairs around 3 a.m.

My body just completely tired and overworked from the stress of the day.

How is it, that Joel- a sweet ten year old intelligent boy- can go through such horrific hardships and still come out sweeter than ever.

More polite than any other child I've met.

And stronger too?

How?

Creak!

Opening my eyes a bit in the early morning light, the outside still darkening my room a bit- I notice a figure standing in my doorway.

Tall and Lean.

I'm not frightened though.

Not concerned.

Joyed.

Unless of course it's a delusion once again.

"Love?" I whisper quietly through the dark and the shadow remains still.

"Go back to sleep." His voice similarly quiet calls back to me.

"Come here, now." I demandly whisper.

"You're in time out." I scoff as he says it.

"You. Here. Now."

After a few defiant moments of remaining at the door, he finally comes in, sets his duffle down and closes the door. Walking over to the bed, he climbs in under the covers and wraps his arms around me.

"You stink." I whisper as he snuggles in close. His hands gliding over my stomach slowly.

"Sorry...it's been rough- I needed to just get home."

"Well next time shower before crawling into my bed. Make me throw up on you." Puffing air out of his nose, it warms my neck as he leaves soft tender kisses there.

We fall back to sleep without another word.

I'm simply glad he's home.

.....

I rose before Max.

The morning light now pooling in beneath the blinds shows me just how ragged he seems.

Funny how a week away can do that to you.

A week of horrible things.

Sliding from the covers, I leave him there to slumber and make my way through the morning routine.

Pee.

Wash hands.

Brush teeth.

Shower.

Get dressed.

And get the kids up.

Downstairs, I find Jim and Emilea sitting with Joel having some cereal and coffee.

"Morning." I say as I hold both Zep's and Lu's hands as we slowly descend the last few steps. Zeppy has taken well to the stairs.

A fear of mine.