Tuesday, May 19th, 2015
Word Count: 575
Marissa awoke one morning to the smell of breakfast wafting up from the kitchen.
This was not entirely uncommon. Often Cal, her housemate and the father of her second child, would cook breakfast for the two of them and Lilah. Except as far as Marissa was aware, Cal was not supposed to be home from his business trip for another two days, which left she, Lilah, and Rhiannon as the house's only occupants.
There was a chance that it was Rhiannon, though Rhiannon had her own kitchenette in the basement apartment and typically did most of her cooking down there unless Marissa invited her up—which was often, though Marissa couldn't remember having done so this particular morning.
But she couldn't imagine it would have been anyone else.
Marissa looked to the clock on her bedside table and saw that it was only 6:30 in the morning, far too early for her to be awake, in her opinion, but she knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep until she solved the mystery that was this early breakfast. She smelled sausage and bacon and something else, something sweet but subtle. It roused her from sleep despite her best efforts to stubbornly cling to it.
Rolling out of bed ungracefully, Marissa stumbled as she grabbed for her robe and pulled it on. She rubbed her eyes free of the crust that often accumulated in sleep as she went for the door, bleary-eyed in these first few moments of consciousness. She took the stairs down to the second floor to check on Lilah, only to find that her youngest daughter had already been removed from her crib.
Perhaps Cal was home after all. It wouldn't be the first time he'd returned home early. Except he usually called first. Perhaps he'd forgotten this time. Or perhaps she'd missed the call. She remembered she'd neglected to check her phone for any missed messages the night before.
Continuing down the stairs to the ground floor, Marissa expected to find Cal in the kitchen happily cooking breakfast for Lilah. She did not expect to see her oldest daughter at the stove, already dressed for the day with a sunny smile on her face.
Marissa came to a stop at the entrance to the kitchen. Lilah sat in her highchair, still in her pajamas, munching away on a bowl of cheerios. Rhiannon sat at the counter bar looking like she'd been disturbed from sleep far earlier than she would have liked; she leaned against the counter on her elbow with her hand pressed against her face, and looked as if she might fall back to sleep right there.
“Morning, Mom!” Paris said cheerfully.
“Morning,” Marissa responded tiredly. It took a few more moments for her to really take in the scene.
There Paris was, in her little pink skirt and frilly blouse, barefoot, cooking sausage, bacon, eggs, and pancakes liked she traipsed into Marissa's kitchen every morning and made everyone breakfast.
“What are you doing here?” Marissa asked.
“What does it look like?” Paris said.
“Okay, why are you here so early?” Marissa amended.
“Because~” Paris sing-songed. “Today is a special day~”
“It is?”
Paris grinned brightly. From the counter she hoisted a plate of pancakes. Atop the pile were two candles—one number four and one number zero.
“Happy Birthday~!”
Marissa groaned and slumped against the door frame.
She'd almost managed to forget.
