“Peanut butter is the best food in ‘da whole world, Mom!” Izick yelled to Mrs. Williamson from his seat at the table.
Mrs. Williamson looked up from her plate and smiled. “Oh, is it?”
“em-hmm!” Izick nodded. “It’s sweet and warm and really special! I love it!”
“I’m glad, ‘cause we’ve got lots in the house,” Mrs. Williamson said through a bit of her sandwich. She looked out at the navy-blue sky, covered with glittery blue stars. It was late, nearly or past Izick’s bedtime, but the three-year old started daycare next year, so Mrs. Williamson had nothing to worry about.
Clicking and clunking could be heard from the front hall.
“Pop!” Izick yelled. He beamed and picked up his toy-jet, quickly running to the front door, humming while swaying it this way and that through the air.
The door swung open nearly hitting the small boy.
“Pop, Pop! When I become a pilot, I’m gonna drive people around in jets!” the boy yelled.
“Yes, yes, right,” Mr. Williamson sighed as he walked past him and collapsed on the couch, closing his eyes for a good long minute.
His wife and son crowded around him, and waited patiently for him to gather enough energy to look at them again.
When he did, Izick said, “We had peanut-butter sandwiches for dinner.”
“I didn’t want to make anything big or special since you wouldn’t be at home ‘till late,” Mrs. Williamson explained.
“Peanut butter is special!” Izick insisted.
“Okay, okay, take it easy kiddo.” Mr. Williamson pushed air with his hands to calm the boy down.
Izick turned and smiled “Mom says you got no work tomorrow! Can we go to the park!?”
“I donno. I’m pretty tired.” Mr. Williamson answered.
Izick frowned, but he still asked, “Do you wanna play with my plane set with me!?”
“Maybe another day. I just wanna rest kiddo. Please. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Aawwww,” Izick moaned and Mrs. Williamson took him upstairs to his bed.
Once at Izick’s room, Mrs. Williamson kissed his head and tucked him in.
“Pop never does anything fun with me,” Izick said to his Mom.
His dark brown eyes had little bubbles of light in them from the ceiling light, and they pierced his Mother. Her heart filled with sympathy for her son, and she wished that Mr. Williamson would spend more time with their son, who looked up to him so greatly.
“He’s just…He’s just busy is all,” She muttered.
Izick stared off in thought for a moment, then smiled at his mother. “Do you wanna play with my plane set with me tomorrow!?”
“I can’t. I’ve got a book club meet tomorrow and I’ve got to bake treats for the event and everything. I’ll be busy,” Mrs. Williamson gave Izick a sad smile and rubbed his head of black curls.
Izick sighed and slid further down into his covers, and Mrs. Williamson left the room.
Little did they know, Mr. Williamson had been in the next room brushing his teeth, and had heard the whole thing.
Mr. Williamson only woke up early the next morning because the sun was gleaming in his face like a phone camera.
He got up and turned to his wife, who was sleeping peacefully.
Then he remembered today’s schedule. Mrs. Williamson had meant to make cookies for her book club, as all five of them were having a meeting today!
He quickly sat up. “She didn’t make those cookies yet, did she?” he muttered quietly. He hated thinking about waking her up, not when she was getting such well deserved rest.
“Mom!”
Mr. Williamson’s head jerked in the direction of the hall.
It was Izick, who was proudly stomping into their room with his pilot costume on.
“Guess what!? I jumped off my bed and flew like a plane! I bet I can do it again-Umm waaach!” The rest of his sentence was mumbled, as Mr. Williamson quickly covered Izick’s mouth with his hand.
“Izick! Mom’s asleep,” he explained.
“But!” he protested, and his father shushed him.
“But,” Izick continued, now in a whisper. “I can fly, and I want to show her!”
“Not now Izick, maybe later. It’s early in the morning, and your Mom has book meeting.”
“Aww,” Izick’s face fell, and his eyes began to lose their shine.
Before Mr. Williamson frowned as well, he tried to cheer up the mood. “Hey, tell you what. Today, we can make peanut-butter cookies!”
Izick smiled again. “In da morning!?”
Mr. Williamson laughed and nodded. “‘In ‘da morning’,” he mimicked.
“Yay!” Izick whispered, his fist pumping in the air.
Down the stairs the two rushed.
Mr. Williamson made a game of finding the ingredients for peanut butter cookies. It was enjoyable for both father and son. Mr. Williamson couldn’t help but notice how much he missed seeing his son's huge smile. Izick’s eyes really twinkled when he smiled, and his cheeks got all round like cherries and rose to the sides of his eyes. Mr. Williamson hated how he was rarely ever home. How he didn’t get to spend much time like this, just him and his son, playing and having fun. From now on, he would make sure he wasn’t completely invisible and shut out from his son’s life.
Soon the cookies were in the oven, and the two were right across from the stove, staring into the tiny window where the cookie plumps sat to bake.
“Peanut butter is the best food in ‘da whole world,” Izick mumbled.
“Really?” Mr. Williamson turned to Izick, who was on the floor cross-legged, his eyes stuck to the stove.
Izick nodded. “It’s sweet and warm, and really special,”
“Hmm,” Mr. Williamson nodded. “Like you.” he mumbled.
“Like me!?” Izick turned to him.
Mr. Williamson turned back to his son with widened eyes. He had heard that!?
“Yeah, like you!” The two smiled, and then Mr. Williamson looked at his watch. “It’s almost time for your Mom’s book club meeting, who wants to fly and wake her up!?”
Now Izick’s eyes widened. “I do!”
And so Mr. Williamson scooped Izick up and put him on his shoulders, humming like a plane as he ran all the way to the steps, where they looked up and saw Mrs. Williamson at the top of the stairs, a huge smile on her face.
Little did they know, Mrs. Williamson had heard everything.
Not only is this my entry for the Inkwell Contest #102, but an entry to the dreemport contest for the word, Invisible!
Like my content? Check my children’s book, Imagination on Amazon!
