TM Prompt 222: Sleeping on the couch
The couch in the Kelly family's living room is just about big enough for an eight-year-old girl to curl up next to her father, poke him until he wakes up, and drop a book onto his lap. Dad gets wet when he sleeps, these days. He drips onto the couch, and onto the floor, and that sort of makes Mom mad except he can't help it, and he usually remembers to clean up after himself. Anyway, even when he's wet he's warm and good for a hug. Beth clears her throat and prods at the book.
"I need to practice," she says, insistently.
Dad blinks at her. His eyes get a little funny when he's wet, like he's crying, like his eyes are all swimming around inside his head. "You're good at reading, honey."
"I know. But." She snuggles closer, and opens up the book. "Is Mom mad at you?"
He puts his arm around her, finally, puts a finger on the other edge of the book, holding it open. His fingerprint is wet, like swirls on glass. "Little bit."
"How come?"
Dad gets that expression on his face like when she asks about Big Things like heaven, or Jamie, or where exactly they get that cool blue colour they put in M&Ms. "It's a little complicated, kid."
"Hm." Beth turns pages, getting to the start of the story. Apparently it's a story about real people, too. She's even flipped through the pages and seen stuff about drugs and sex and all that stuff that seems to be important to adults. Maybe she's not allowed to read that yet. "I like Rachel. She's cool. Do I get to meet her?"
Dad sighs. "Uh, yes. I hope so."
"Mom doesn't like Rachel?"
"Mom's worried I like Rachel more than I like her."
Beth frowns. "That's silly," she says decisively, and then looks at him. "Isn't it?"
"I..."
"Are you and Mom getting divorced again?"
"No, we're not getting divorced, honey."
"But she's mad at you."
Dad reaches out and plays with her hair. She hates that, and wriggles to get away. "Your Mom and I love each other very much."
"And you love Jamie too."
"Yes I do."
"And Rachel?"
"Maybe."
"But Mom just loves you?" Beth wrinkles her nose. "Isn't that, like, three times more than you love her?"
"I don't think love works like that, kid. And we both love you and your brother more than anything."
"Hm. Can we paint his room this weekend?"
"Yes we can."
"Cool." She takes one of his slippery fingers in her hand. "I'll beat you up if you hurt Mom, you know. I know Judo. And I could get JP and Mr. Mike to help."
He kisses the side of her head. "Come on, munchkin. Let's see if we can get through this chapter before bedtime, huh?"
"Oh, that's easy," she says, and pulls the book closer. "As far back as I can remember," she reads, "there's been music in my life..."
By the time Mom gets in from work, they're still there, book long forgotten, little girl resting against Dad's shoulder, completely asleep.
"I love you," Dad says, and the little girl, dreaming about great curling waves on Californian beaches, smiles.
"I need to practice," she says, insistently.
Dad blinks at her. His eyes get a little funny when he's wet, like he's crying, like his eyes are all swimming around inside his head. "You're good at reading, honey."
"I know. But." She snuggles closer, and opens up the book. "Is Mom mad at you?"
He puts his arm around her, finally, puts a finger on the other edge of the book, holding it open. His fingerprint is wet, like swirls on glass. "Little bit."
"How come?"
Dad gets that expression on his face like when she asks about Big Things like heaven, or Jamie, or where exactly they get that cool blue colour they put in M&Ms. "It's a little complicated, kid."
"Hm." Beth turns pages, getting to the start of the story. Apparently it's a story about real people, too. She's even flipped through the pages and seen stuff about drugs and sex and all that stuff that seems to be important to adults. Maybe she's not allowed to read that yet. "I like Rachel. She's cool. Do I get to meet her?"
Dad sighs. "Uh, yes. I hope so."
"Mom doesn't like Rachel?"
"Mom's worried I like Rachel more than I like her."
Beth frowns. "That's silly," she says decisively, and then looks at him. "Isn't it?"
"I..."
"Are you and Mom getting divorced again?"
"No, we're not getting divorced, honey."
"But she's mad at you."
Dad reaches out and plays with her hair. She hates that, and wriggles to get away. "Your Mom and I love each other very much."
"And you love Jamie too."
"Yes I do."
"And Rachel?"
"Maybe."
"But Mom just loves you?" Beth wrinkles her nose. "Isn't that, like, three times more than you love her?"
"I don't think love works like that, kid. And we both love you and your brother more than anything."
"Hm. Can we paint his room this weekend?"
"Yes we can."
"Cool." She takes one of his slippery fingers in her hand. "I'll beat you up if you hurt Mom, you know. I know Judo. And I could get JP and Mr. Mike to help."
He kisses the side of her head. "Come on, munchkin. Let's see if we can get through this chapter before bedtime, huh?"
"Oh, that's easy," she says, and pulls the book closer. "As far back as I can remember," she reads, "there's been music in my life..."
By the time Mom gets in from work, they're still there, book long forgotten, little girl resting against Dad's shoulder, completely asleep.
"I love you," Dad says, and the little girl, dreaming about great curling waves on Californian beaches, smiles.