7 years later
I annoyedly blew a loose strand of hair out my face, re-running the paint roller over the area where the powder blue pigment covering the recently white walls wasn't fully colored. I had tried waiting for Harry to come home, but quickly became impatient, despite his demand to let him do the job.
I decided I was in need of a break, wiping the back of my hand over my forehead as I steadily stepped down from the ladder. I spun around, seeing my three year old's foot hovering above the pan filled with paint from across the empty room.
"Declan," I called, tone rebuking. His pale-hazel doe eyes glanced up to me curiously. I shook my head reprimandingly, causing him to huff and shuffle towards me against the plastic laid out on wood floor.
His bottom lip poked out and I swore he never looked more like Harry than in this moment. "Why can't I play with it?" he whined, pointing to the pan.
I kneeled down to be equivalent to his height, brushing his lengthy chocolate hair out of his eyes. "Because that's grown up paint, sweetie, and grown up paint has a lot of bad stuff in it and mommy doesn't want you to end up in the hospital."
"I'm not scared of the hospi-pal!" he announced, hands going to his hips while he projected his chest. I chuckled at the action. "I'm not scared of anything!"
"Really? Not even the Tickle Monster?"
He smiled, dimples hollowed in his cheeks, shying away from me as my hands formed claws. "No," he shook his head, drawing out the word.
"You sure?" I quipped.
He remained silent, letting out a little war cry as he took off out of the vacant room and down the hall. I jogged after him, hearing his giggles ring throughout the house and trail off downstairs. I followed his laugh, peering around the wall near the stairs. I discerned a pair of feet dangling off the couch, causing me to tiptoe across the carpet.
"Hi, mommy," Ava greeted excitedly, waving. I was met with large golden green eyes and extensive curly hair in a ponytail tied with a small pink bow. She had gotten her corkscrew locks from her father, and I knew she would find it hard to tame when she got older.
"Hi, angel," I grinned, shuffling over to where she sat comfortably. I glanced at the tv, the Caillou theme song playing faintly. She had been watching the show most of the day. Most of her five years, actually. Harry and I knew the theme song too well.
"Are you looking for Declan?" she asked, gaping up at me.
"Do you know where he is?"
Her finger directed me to the sliding door that led to the porch, curtain draped over it. A small figure outlined in the cloth, causing me to smile. I looked back to Ava, who was beaming amusement.
I put my finger to my lips to silence her, her mimicking my actions. I shambled towards the drapes, hearing hushed snickers.
"Hm, I wonder where Declan is?" I questioned rhetorically. I glimpsed back at Ava, winking as she grinned, feet swaying eagerly.
"These curtains look pretty dusty." I pretended to examine them, the figure shifting slightly, causing the material to ripple. "Maybe I should air them out."
My hands went out to ruffle the fabric, trailing down to poke at the shape, which began laughing uncontrollably as my hands moved rapidly against the squirming body beneath the valance.
"Hey, curtains don't laugh," I teased. I drew it back to reveal Declan smiling widely.
"I tricked you," he said proudly.
