It was Sara's idea. A family activity with Mike. Dishwashing liquid, a little water and various colours of paint. Blowing bubbles in paint. Who would have thought it?
"No, Dad. Like this," Mike laughed at Michael's feigned ineptness. He then proceeded to blow bubbles into the paint jar with a straw to show his father what to do. Michael's heart contracted just a little bit. The easy casualness with which Mike had used the word even now brought such joy to Michael's heart. There had been times when he could hardly bring himself to believe the day would come when he would have this moment with his son.
"Then you get the bubbles on the paper," Mike said. He stuck out his little tongue as he concentrated to gently transfer the coloured bubbles onto the construction paper. "And when they burst, they leave little bubble patterns. See?"
"You mean like this?" Michael plopped some bubbles on his paper but all it left was a puddle of wet colour and not the delicate bubble patterns like on his wife's paper.
Mike's childish laughter bubbled into the air. "Try again," he told his father. Which was something his mother often said to him. He explained patiently as if his dad was the child: "And when the different colours touch they make new colours."
Sara smiled as she watched her son and husband bond. The past few months had been an adjustment for all of them. Finding a new house, learning new home routines as they all adjusted to each others quirks and habits. Not to mention that Mike's mom had a different husband in her bed even if it was his father. It had also taken them a while to not jump at every little sound or be over-protective of Mike after everything he'd been through. Kids were resilient though, it was the adults who sometimes needed to take a step back and find some balance.
It was a messy, relaxing and deliriously fun afternoon. They blew bubbles and used them to paint endless reams of paper. Soon everything was soggy and wet and covered in paint. Including the three of them as bubble painting degenerated into a paint war in the backyard!
"Well, that was messier then anticipated," Sara laughed as she stepped out of the shower and into their bedroom later. Michael had supervised Mike's bath while she had gone to wash up and the little boy was now happily ensconced in front of the tv watching his favourite show. Michael wholeheartedly agreed with her assessment as he was still covered in paint.
"Why don't you take a shower while I go start dinner," Sara said pulling a pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt and some underwear from the closet. She tied her wet hair into a bun.
"How did you come up with this bubble painting thing anyway?" Michael asked as he unbuttoned his shirt.
"Pinterest," was Sara's simply answer as she sat on the bed smoothing some lotion on herself before pulling on her clothes. "You think it's easy keeping a seven year old entertained? Pinterest is a mom's best friend."
Michael had stilled in the act of getting undressed as he watched his wife go about her basic beauty regimen. Watched her hands smooth the lotion down her legs, her arms, dab a little moisturiser on her face. She dropped her towel and the action was so natural. Sara was completely comfortable in her nakedness around him. Michael was aware of nothing else as she pulled on her simple blue cotton panties. So like the woman herself. Practical and unpretentious. And sexy as hell!
She was pulling on her yoga pants when she finally noticed him watching her. Those intelligent eyes that never missed anything were alight with heated interest. Some green paint streaked the side of his face. He looked as adorable as he son.
"What?" she asked softly, a hint of a knowing smile curving her lips.
"I was thinking," Michael dropped his shirt to the floor and stood so close to her she had to tilt her head to look him in the eyes. He was a lean physical presence that invaded her world with it's masculinity. Her entire body quivered with awareness. She stood in front of him in black yoga pants and bare breasted. "Maybe you'd like to join me. I'm going to need help washing my back."
"Uh uh," Sara said slipping her arms around his waist. Her nipples peaked as they brushed against his warm hard chest. "I've already taken a shower."
"You can never be too clean," Michael informed her. "And you missed a spot, right... here."
He leaned forward and placed a kiss in the hollow of her throat.
Sara moaned. "You don't behave in showers."
"True. But then neither do you." His lips were a whisper away from hers.
"Moommm!" came the bellow of their son interrupting the moment. "Can I have a cookie?"
Sara dropped her forehead to Michael's shoulder. "Well, we'll have to table this discussion for another time. Just a second Mike, I'm coming!"
Sara felt Michael's chest rumble with barely suppressed laughter. Her eyes widened as she realised the unintentional double entendré of her choice of words. She smacked him on the arm and quickly pulled on her t-shirt. "Shut up and go take your shower. Alone."
"There's always tonight Dr. Scofield," Michael promised.
"Later Mr. Scofield."
Michael watched the sweet sway of Sara's hips as she left their bedroom to see to the needs of their son. He couldn't suppress the happy grin that spread across his face. Later she'd be seeing to his needs.