Page 83 of Rest In Peace
"Mom, I'm hungry!" Alex's voice cut through my lingering concerns, his small frame dashing past us. Angel's giggles followed, her tiny feet pattering on the hardwood floor as she went in pursuit of her brother.
"Table, guys," I called out, my voice steadier than my nerves felt. The clink of silverware and the shuffle of chairs filled the space, grounding me back to the present.
"Smells good, babe," Matt said, easing himself into his seat with practiced grace despite the crutches propped against the chair.
"Thanks." I placed the last dish on the table, a spread that spoke of normalcy and family routines that we fought so hard to maintain. Christine joined us without looking up from her phone as usual.
"Can I help?" Matt reached out, but I shook my head.
"Sit. You've done enough."
"Peas, please!" Angel’s request was more of a song than a sentence. Her hands clapped together in delight as I obliged, spooning bright green orbs onto her plate.
"Did you win your game, champ?" Matt asked, turning toward Alex, who was already shoveling food into his mouth.
"Uh-huh! Beat the boss level!" he mumbled, bits of carrot escaping his lips.
"Awesome!" Matt's enthusiasm matched Alex’s, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was these moments, this effortless bond between them, that sometimes took my breath away. His son Elijah was still with his grandmother, and he was enjoying living there for now and had made a lot of friends in the area where Matt’s mother lived, so we had decided to let him stay there for now on the condition that he came here and ate with us at least once a week. He, too, was growing up so fast.
"More peas, Mommy!" Angel chimed in again, oblivious to the weighty conversations that had come before her simple request.
"Of course, sweetheart." I smiled, serving her more, watching as she balanced one pea at a time on her fork with intense concentration.
"Looks like you've got competition, Matt. Our little lady here might just be the next sharpshooter in the family," I teased, glancing at him with an affection that mingled with my lingering worries.
"Hey, I'll take a partner with such focus any day," he chuckled, winking at Angel, who beamed with pride.
"Let's eat up," I encouraged, settling into my chair, the five of us enclosed in the warm light of the dining room, the scent of stew mingling with the lemony tang of freshly steamed vegetables.
I reached across the table, my fingers brushing against Matt's. The roughness of his skin, marked by the ordeals he'd been through, was familiar and comforting in its resilience. I laced my fingers through his, feeling the strength that had once wielded a weapon with precision, now holding onto me with tenderness.
"Hey," I whispered, tugging gently at his hand.
He turned to me, a half-smile playing on his lips, his eyes reflecting the soft light that enveloped us.
"Hey, yourself," he replied, the timbre of his voice grounding me further into the moment.
Our kids' chatter became a distant hum as I leaned in closer, closing the space between us. His breath mingled with mine, a prelude to our lips meeting in a kiss that held the promise of new beginnings and unspoken oaths of love. It was soft yet certain, a silent language only we spoke.
Pulling back slightly, I stared into his eyes, finding an echo of my own happiness.
"We've come so far," I murmured, more to myself than to him.
"Thanks to you," he said, his voice hushed, filled with gratitude and awe.
"Us," I corrected, squeezing his hand, "we're a team, remember?"
"Always," he agreed, the corner of his mouth lifting higher.
Around us, the clinking of cutlery on plates and the murmur of contented conversation all wove together into the tapestry of family life. It was a melody I'd feared losing but now played stronger than ever.
"Mommy, look, I'm using chopsticks!" Alex exclaimed, brandishing his utensils with an exaggerated flourish, rice grains tumbling back onto his plate. He had a thing for anything Japanese lately: cartoons, food, and utensils, so I let him use chopsticks and practice whenever he wanted to.
"Wow, buddy, you're becoming quite the pro," I said with a laugh, turning to share the moment with Matt.
"I wanna do that," Angel piped up, her face alight with the simple joy of being included in her brother's adventures.
"Sure thing, Angie." Alex handed her the sticks and showed her how to hold them. He had come to enjoy his role as big brother, one he wore with pride, while Christine rolled her eyes at them. I had spoken earlier with Olivia, and she was still doing well at college. She said she was coming home the following weekend, and I couldn’t wait to see her.
I sat back, my heart brimming over as I absorbed the scene before me: my children growing and thriving, my partner recovering and smiling, and the sense of peace that had seemed so elusive now cradling us gently. This was happiness, not just a fleeting emotion but a state of being woven through the fabric of our everyday lives.
"Family," I whispered, barely audible over the sound of our shared existence.
"Forever," Matt echoed, understanding without needing me to speak louder.
We finished our meal amid laughter and stories, each bite savored, and each glance exchanged a reminder of what we had overcome and what lay ahead. As the last plates were cleared and the children's yawns grew longer, the contentment within me swelled. I was home, truly home, surrounded by love, lulled by security, and ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.
THE END