Rubbing the sleep from his tired eyes; Peter strolled down the stairs. It was only six in the morning, but he'd promised himself he'd be up before Nicole today. He passed by the living room to hear the early Saturday morning cartoons on the television. He paused at the doorway and looked in to see Thomas sitting calmly in front of the box, watching cartoons. Though immersed in the program, he wasn't laughing hilariously as some kids might have. But then Thomas had never really been an ordinary kid.
"Morning Thomas," Peter called in to him.
"Hi Dad," Thomas greeted him, and flashed a smile. "Why are you up so early today?" Peter tried to hold back a yawn, but failed, and was forced to wait before he answered.
"Making breakfast," he replied. Thomas' eyebrows shot up in surprise, a mannerism he must have picked up from Mike.
"You? Breakfast? You must be joking," he laughed, and pretended to be choking; something, Peter mused, which he must have picked up from Micky. Peter smiled and headed into the kitchen. Thomas abandoned his cartoons and followed.
"Okay Tom, what do you think your mom wants for breakfast?" Peter asked; realizing he had no idea what to make. Thomas wrinkled his nose at his nickname and thought.
"Bacon and eggs," he decided after a few moments of intense concentration.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, just a few days ago she said, 'Man I could really go for some bacon and eggs for breakfast,'" Thomas said, doing a pretty good imitation of his mother. That settled, Peter decided that bacon and eggs would work just fine. He took out some frying pans and began to fry some bacon in one, and eggs in another, while Thomas took out some bread and put it in the toaster.
"Hey Dad, how come you're making breakfast today anyway?" Thomas asked curiously.
"Because today is a special day," Peter explained. "Oh," he said abruptly. "I almost forgot." He went over to the telephone and dialed a number. Remembering his cartoons, Thomas went back to the living room to turn off the TV. Then he returned and began to fix himself a bowl ofcereal and a glass of juice. Peter poured a glass of orange juice and placed it on the tray with the rest of the breakfast, and headed upstairs.
"Good luck," Thomas called, and Peter smiled. He'd need it.
Peter set the tray down on the nightstand near the bed and sat down near Nicole's sleeping form. Her eyes were shut, and her hair was draped slightly over the side of her face. Peter watched her sleep for a few moments, enjoying the silence, and then leaned over and kissed the side of her face lightly. She moaned and rolled over, but he could tell she was no longer fully asleep. Slowly he moved his hand over her back, and to her most vulnerable tickle spot; then he began to tickle. Lightly at first, but then more, until she was engulfed in very amusing laughter.
"Stop," she wailed, very amusing. "Peter, stop it." He laughed and retreated, an impish smile on his face, and then leaned over again and kissed her on the lips. No longer able to resist, her eyes flew open and she enjoyed the moment of peace. After it was over, she sighed and looked up at him.
"To what do I owe such a pleasure?" she asked. Peter smiled, but said nothing. Instead he stood up and retrieved the breakfast. He stood near her bed, holding out the tray. Nicole's eyes grew wide in surprise, and she smiled. "Oh Peter," she swooned. "How sweet." She looked genuinely pleased for a moment before her surprise turned to more caution.
"Well?" he asked. "Aren't you going to eat it?" She looked hesitant for a moment, and Peter crossed his fingers behind his back. Nicole sighed and decided to bite the bullet. Or, in this case, her husband's cooking. She picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite out of it. 'Ok,' she admitted. 'That wasn't bad.' But it was only bacon. Now came the egg. She took a bit of it in her fork and....
"Hey that's not bad," she said with a surprise." Thomas helped, didn't he?" she added, copying his impish smile.
"All he cooked was the toast," Peter said indignantly.
"So what's the occasion?" she asked between bites. Peter pretended to be hurt.
"You don't remember?" he asked. When she shook her head, he turned on his puppy-dog eyes. "I thought I meant something to you," he whined, and twisted up his face. It was a funny, horrible imitation of the face she made when she wailed. It was irresistible. She couldn't resist, and burst out laughing. Peter joined in, too, after a moment of pretending to be insulted.
"I'm sorry," she said when she'd finally composed herself. "It must have slipped my mind," she added, diving in to start another tickle war. And another spell of laughter. When the laughter died down again, she felt she would burst from curiosity. "Okay, okay, I give up," she surrendered. "I give up. What is today?"
"The twenty-third," he replied. Peter watched with interest as the realization hit her. "....Oh, Peter, how sweet," she crooned for the second time that morning. "You remembered..."
"And you didn't," he finished, grinning yet another impish grin. "I'm sorry," she said. "Can you ever forgive me?" She turned on her own set of equally cute puppy-dog eyes. He frowned for a moment, pretending to think it over, but he couldn't hold it long, and smiled. He prepared to tickle again, but was interrupted.
"Mommy!" Joanne was wailing from the other bedroom. Nicole sat up to go answer her, but Peter stopped her.
"Don't move an inch," he said in a mock-threatening voice. "You finish eating, get dressed, whatever, and I'll take care of the kids."
"Oh Peter," Nicole wailed yet again. "You're so sweet." He nodded, smiling, and hurried to the still wailing two year old in the next room. When Nicole had finished eating, dressing, and showering in a somewhat relaxing environment, she picked up the tray with the empty dishes from her meal and headed downstairs. She walked through the downstairs, pausing at the door of the living room where both of the children were sitting, watching Saturday morning cartoons.
"Morning Mom," Thomas said, without taking his eyes off Bugs Bunny. "Dad said not to go in the kitchen," he added.
"Oh? Dare I ask why?" Thomas shrugged. Joanne looked up from her toys that she was playing with on the floor and smiled.
"Hi mommy," she greeted her mother. Nicole set the tray down on the end table and picked up her daughter.
"Hello, sweetie," she said. "Did you and Daddy make a mess in the kitchen?" Joanne just smiled. "I certainly hope not." She sat down on the floor and spent the next few hours or so amusing herself with the kids.
"Having all the fun without me?" Nicole looked up to see Peter standing in the doorway, dish cloth in one hand and an apron around his waist. His hair was rather messed up, his hands wore rubber gloves, and his jeans were positively soaked. She forced herself not to burst out laughing at her husband's strange getup. After all, she thought, he probably didn't laugh at her when she tried to play music.
"Looks like you're having all the fun," she quipped, grinning. "What are you doing in there? Making a mess?"
"Only of myself," he replied, and she did laugh then.
"I see that," she said between giggles. Thomas looked up from the book he'd been reading long enough to smile. Peter shot him a glare, and he retreated back into his book. Joanne took no notice.
"Actually, I came to tell you lunch is ready. Go eat. I'm gonna get changed before we go. "
"Go where?"
"You'll see," he said mysteriously and smiled mischievously. Lunch wasn't too bad, Nicole discovered, which was a surprise. Two edible meals from Peter in one day was a feat that rarely occurred. Not, of course, that he cooked much, but it was usually bad. The kitchen, she also found, was spotless. The floor had been mopped, and scrubbed, and waxed, and every stain was disappeared. The refrigerator, stove and other appliances glistened in the afternoon sun.
"Wow," Thomas said, moved to actual words by the cleanliness of the room. "Did Dad do this or did he hire someone?" Nicole chuckled.
"I don't know," she said, in awe. The table, also shining brightly, now had a tablecloth on it; all the plates were set, with napkins next to them, folded, and silverware glinted as well.
"Where's the food?" Thomas asked, reminded of his hunger. Nicole turned to the stove. Several pots and pans sat on it. She opened one pot and found some macaroni and cheese, Joanne's favorite dish. In another was a cheeseburger, one of Thomas' favorites. And last but not least was some of Nicole's favorite soup. After they'd served themselves and sat down, they ate. To their surprise, the food was good. A short while later, Peter reentered the kitchen. Nicole began to clap. Thomas joined in, and so did Joanne, when she realized every one else was clapping. Peter looked startled for a moment, but rose to the occasion. He bowed to his audience, and smiled.
"Is that really necessary?" he asked.
"Yes," Nicole said, standing up. "You're terrific." She kissed him. Just then the doorbell rang.
"Oh, honey, could you get that?" Peter asked. "I think it's for you." Nicole looked at him strangely for a moment, but stood up to answer the door. Peter opened the spotless refrigerator and poured himself a glass of iced tea. Then he sat down and began to drink it. A few moments later Nicole reentered the kitchen. In her arms were a dozen roses.
"You know, Peter, I really didn't need all this," she began,but before she could finish, the doorbell rang again.
"That's for you, too," Peter smiled, taking the roses from her hands. He sat back and drank his glass of iced tea. Nicole gave him another look of surprise and went to answer it again.
"Boy Dad, you really went all out," Thomas commented. "What is it, your anniversary?" Peter shook his head and got up to put the flowers in a vase. "Well I know it's not her birthday, right?" Peter shook his head again. "Well then what is it?"
"You'll see," Peter said. Just then Nicole entered the kitchen again. This time she was carrying a stuffed teddy bear.
"Peter, you are too much," she scolded.
"Oh? So I should just....mess up the kitchen and send back the roses and the bear?" he joked, tilting his glass in a threat to spill his iced tea all over the floor.
"No, no, I didn't say that," Nicole said. She took the glass from his hand and moved past him to set it on the counter. He smiled mischievously. After she'd set the glass down, he grabbed her around the waist and kissed her.
"C'mon," he said a moment later. "I'll clean those dishes later. Everyone into the car."
"Where are we going?" Nicole asked.
"Out."
"Out where?"
"You'll see," Peter said mischievously and irritatingly. That afternoon was spent in the parks and arcade and stores. A generally good "family" day. When it started to get later and everyone got hungry, they headed to a local fast food burger joint to get some dinner. By this time they were all exhausted, and after they'd ordered, sat down in a booth to relax. Peter reached into his pockets for some money, to pay for the dinner, but found them empty.
"Aw, man," he moaned. "I left my wallet in the car."
"I've got some money," Nicole said, reaching into her pocket.
"No, no, it's okay," Peter said, and stood up.
"Hey Dad, can I come?" Thomas asked suddenly. "What for?" Peter asked, surprised. "I'm only going to the parking lot."
"I know, but you might need my help," Thomas said, shrugging.
"With what? Opening the car door?" Thomas shrugged again.
"I dunno. Can I come?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Peter agreed, and the two of them headed out to the car.
