Lucy wadded through the layer of silly string, confetti, and balloons on the floor just to get to the couch that was now occupied by a mountain of pink wrapping paper. She gave a little sigh knowing the cleanup rested on her shoulders. Just as she was about to carefully relocate the stack of pink wrapping paper hastily torn to shreds, John overtook her and just pushed the entire mess onto the floor. He fell back into the now relatively empty couch (except for a few hats and noise makers lodged in between pillows) and patted the seat beside him. Ordinarily, Lucy would be upset that he’d just created a bigger mess than when the girls were here and bouncing around like pin balls at the mere mention of a bubble show. But today, she just let it go and promptly fell into his waiting arms.
The moment her body fell against John’s, they both breathed a sigh of relief. The day was finally over. All the preparation and hours of decorating ended with a smashing success. Sandra finally got the pink princess butterfly fairy theme (or some combination of those words) she had wanted for her eighth birthday. Never mind that the house looked like a Pepto-Bismol threw up in it and that there was still the dirty business of cleaning up all that glitter from everywhere. When Sandra was tucked into bed, she had a huge smile on her face and could not stop talking about the entire day. They had promised she could wake up the day after and tell them everything that they had missed.
John stroked Lucy’s hair as she gently ran her fingers up and down his arm. She forgot that she had not eaten throughout the entire party. There were just too many things to take care of. John reached at the side table and produced for her a good slice of the birthday cake that took him weeks to track down and make specifications for. The past six months had taken a toll on the entire family and John thought that Sandra’s birthday should at least make up for all the changes that had happened. Thus, the cake was his personal mission, riddled not only with fairies and flowers but the hopes and dreams he had for the entire family.
Lucy was now getting a good sized bite and savoring the specialty cake. She was glad that John had made arrangements for the food. She never would have done it all had he been there to oversee part of the party. And she was even more appreciative when he had offered and she had not had to push him into it. Lucy looked up at John who was now mocking the way she had attacked that cake. She poked him at his side until he promised to cease the teasing … for now. He flinched as she lunged at him again thinking he was going to get another tickling session, only for her to retreat seconds later, brandishing the television remote that was hidden behind him. They laughed at the own silliness somewhat reminiscent of the festivities that had occurred mere hours ago in that very room. She handed him the remote and he promptly flicked the television open. After flipping through a couple of channels, John settled on one that featured a travel documentary of the Caribbean islands or something.
Minutes later, Lucy stood up and made her way to the kitchen where more mess, party balloons, and party favors were to be found. She opened the cupboard and produced two wine glasses and filled them with the bottle left out on the counter. She padded back into the living room and handed John a glass. He was stretched out on one side of the couch and she promptly took the other. The wine warmed her up a bit. Autumn was really making its presence known and the red was just what she needed.
John’s legs were longer than hers and took up some of her leg space. She started fighting him for it, subtlety at first, but ended up in an all out footsie war. They were both giggling and mercilessly tickling each other while trying not to spill their glasses onto the ecru carpeting. Before she could warn him, John tipped his glass a little too far and suddenly there was a noticeable red splotch on the pristine carpet. They looked at each other wide-eyed. They had to move NOW if they were hoping to get that stain out of the fabric. It was going to set harder every minute they wasted just staring at that red blotch.
They turned to the stain and then to each other, back to the stain and to each other again. Lucy froze. She had bugged John about getting this particular carpet for months on end and promised it was a good buy and it would be oh so perfect with the couch that she picked out for the living room. He finally relented and she got his way. John froze. He knew that Lucy was a stickler for cleanliness and vacuumed like mad daily including everything under, over, and around a piece of furniture, a habit he still had to get used to during the weekends. As the red wine sank deeper and deeper into the carpet, the color got darker and more sinister.
They searched each other’s faces, eased back, and then broke out into laughter. No one knew why he or she was laughing. But even with nothing said and just wheezing and coughing between them, they knew that the previous months were worth it. All the planning and changes were nothing compared to what they were giving it up for. John stood up, still laughing, and walked to the kitchen to get a washcloth and some soda. And while Lucy was smiling to herself, she cleared the area where the spill had been lest anything else make it set deeper into the threads. They had worked on it until for a while. They did everything they could until they couldn’t do anything else but go to bed and call the carpet cleaners in the morning.
(Sorry for any grammar, spelling mistakes. I just typed and never looked back.)
