Chapter 91 The Sound of Normal
Alexander picked up Leo from school again. Third time this week.
Elena was caught up in depositions, and Patricia's lawyers wanted everything timelines, documents, the whole stack.
He’d volunteered to help with the pickup. Truthfully, he wanted to.
Standing in the crowded, slow-moving pickup line was worth it.
Leo spotted him, waved wildly, and clambered in, immediately launching into a stream of excited chatter about dinosaurs and friends.
"Dad! Guess what!"
"What’s up?"
"Ms. Greene said my clay Stegosaurus was the best! She put it on the shelf!"
"The special shelf?"
"The VERY special one—where only the best stuff goes!"
"That’s awesome."
Leo made his way into the car. Buckled himself in like a pro.
"And James and I are partners for the art tomorrow! We're making a volcano!"
"A real volcano?"
"With baking soda! It explodes!"
"Sounds messy."
"That’s what makes it fun!"
Alexander pulled out of the lot. "What else happened today?"
"We read a book about penguins. Did you know penguins can't fly?"
"I did know that."
"But they’re birds! Birds are supposed to fly!"
"Penguins are special. They swim instead."
"That’s weird."
"A lot of things are weird."
"Like you!"
"Excuse me?"
"Mama says you’re weird sometimes. In a good way."
"She really said that?"
"Yeah. She says you’re weird-good, not weird-bad."
"I can live with that."
At home, Leo dumped his backpack on the floor, rummaged around, and yanked out a folder.
"I have home-work."
"Already? You’re in preschool."
"It’s fun home-work." He slid the folder open. "We have to draw our family."
Blank page. Crayons clipped to the side.
"The whole family?"
"Everyone who lives in our house." Leo looked up. "That’s you, me, and Mama, right?"
"Right."
"Can we do it now?"
"Sure. Kitchen table?"
They spread out. Leo dumped the crayons.
"I’m doing me first," he declared. Grabbed a green crayon. Drew a stick figure—head, body, arms, legs.
Added a big smile and two dot eyes.
"That’s me!"
"Very accurate."
"Now you." He picked blue. Drew another stick figure beside his, taller. "You’re big, so you get a bigger head."
"Proportionally correct."
"What's pro—por—what you just said?"
"It means the right size compared to other things."
"Oh. Yeah, that." He gave Alexander extra-long arms. "You can reach the high shelves."
"Too true."
"And Mama." Red crayon this time. Put her in the middle. "So we’re all together."
He drew them holding hands. Three stick figures in a row.
"What else should I add?" Leo asked.
"What else is in our house?"
"Ellyphant!" He scribbled out a lumpy shape with a trunk. "He’s part of the family Right?."
"Of course."
"And my dinosaurs." Green scribbles fill the edges. "They’re everywhere."
"Also accurate."
Leo leaned back. Admired his masterpiece. "Good, huh?"
"It’s perfect."
"Should I color more?"
"If you want."
Leo grabbed yellow. Started coloring the background.
"This is the sun and rainbows. Because our house is happy."
Alexander felt his throat tighten. "Yeah. It really is."
"I drew my family and it was just me and Mama. But now it’s bigger."
"That’s good?"
"Yeah! Bigger is better." He switched to orange, made the sun even larger. "Do all families live together?"
"Lots do."
"Did your family live together when you were little?"
"Yeah," Alexander said. "Me, my sister, my parents."
"Do you miss them?"
Alexander stopped. "Sometimes."
"Why don’t they visit?"
"It’s complicated."
"What’s complicated?"
"Grown-up stuff."
"That's what Mama says when she doesn’t want to explain."
"Smart lady."
Leo shrugged and went back to coloring.
They worked quietly. Leo filling the page with color, Alexander just sitting, watching.
Three stick figures holding hands. Simple. Perfect. True.
The front door opened. Elena walked in, dropped her bag.
"I smell nothing cooking. Please tell me you ordered food."
"I did," Alexander shouted back.
"You're my hero."
She showed up in the kitchen doorway, saw them at the table.
"What’s happening?"
"Home-work," Leo said, very serious. "It’s important."
"Can I see?"
Leo held up his drawing. "That’s us, Ellyphant, dinosaurs, and the happy sun and rainbow."
Elena looked it over. "That’s beautiful, baby."
"I know. I’m really talent."
"And so humble."
"What’s humble?"
"Never mind. When’s dinner coming?"
"Twenty minutes," Alexander said.
"Perfect. I’m changing into something less... lawyer-y."
She vanished down the hall.
Leo grabbed a brown crayon. "I’m adding the couch. That’s where we watch movies."
"Good detail."
He blocked out a rectangle, added three smaller ones on top. "That’s us sitting. See?"
"I see."
The doorbell rang.
"Food!" Leo bolted.
Alexander grabbed the bags. Thai food—Leo’s favorite.
They set the table together. Napkins. Plates. Elena materialized in sweats and a t-shirt, hair pulled back.
"This looks amazing. What did you get?"
"Pad Thai, spring rolls, chicken satay."
"You really are my hero."
They sat down. Dished up. Leo tried chopsticks. Gave up and grabbed a fork.
"How were depositions?" Alexander asked.
"Long," Elena sighed. "Patricia’s lawyers are thorough."
"Sounds good."
"Very good. Just... draining. How was school pickup?"
"Great. Leo’s clay dinosaur made it to the special shelf."
"The VERY special shelf," Leo corrected.
"My mistake. The very special shelf."
Elena smiled. "That’s awesome, baby."
"I know. Ms. Greene says I have talent."
"What’s natural talent?"
"It means you’re good at stuff without even trying."
"That’s not—" Elena stopped. "Sure. That’s it."
They ate. Leo talked about volcanoes, James, penguins that didn’t fly. Just normal stuff.
No legal strategy. No Viviana. No trial prep.
Just Thai food and family on a Tuesday.
"Can we watch a movie after?" Leo asked.
"It’s a school night," Elena warned.
"Just a short one?"
"How short?"
"Like... not that long?"
"That’s not a length."
"Fine," Leo grumbled. "But I get to pick."
"Deal."
After dinner, Leo helped clear the table. Carried his plate, big actor.
"I’m being very responsible," he announced.
"Very responsible," Alexander echoed.
"Almost four. Four is basically grown up."
"Basically."
They padded to the living room. Leo picked his movie. Talking animals, no surprises, exactly twenty minutes.
He squirmed between them on the couch, Ellyphant in tow.
"This is my favorite part," he said as the animals started singing.
"You say that about every part."
"It’s because every part is good!"
Elena rested her head on Alexander’s shoulder. Watched the movie, watched Leo.
Her son. Here. Safe. Happy. Singing along.
Everything she’d fought for.
Movie ended. Leo yawned.
"Bedtime," Elena said.
"I’m not tired."
"Your yawn says differently."
"Mouth was just bored."
"Mouth being bored? That’s a new one."
"It’s true!"
Alexander scooped him up. "Let’s go, buddy. Teeth. Pajamas. Bed."
"Will you read me a story?"
"Of course."
In Leo’s room—the green walls, stars—routine kicked in.
Pajamas. Teeth. Water cup.
Leo nestled in with his dinosaurs.
"The T-Rex book?"
Alexander took it from the shelf. "This one?"
"Yeah!"
He read about a T-Rex who was scared of the dark. Leo already knew how it ended. Didn’t care.
"Again!" as soon as Alexander finished.
"It’s late—"
"Please? Just one more?"
"Fine. One more."
He read again. Leo’s eyes dropped halfway through.
By the end, Leo was asleep.
Alexander tucked the blanket up, switched on the T-Rex nightlight.
Stars glowed softly. Dinosaurs stood guard.
Perfect chaos. Kid’s room. Home.
In the living room, Elena had made tea.
"He’s out?"
"Totally. One and a half readings."
"That’s pretty good for him."
Alexander sat, took the mug she offered.
"This is nice," he said.
"What is?"
"This. Normal Tuesday. Dinner. Movie. Bedtime."
"You like normal?"
"I love normal. Normal is way underrated."
"Who knew?"
They sipped tea. Apartment quiet, city humming outside.
"I’ve got depositions again tomorrow," Elena said.
"I’ll do pickup again."
"You don’t have to—"
"I want to. It’s fun. He tells me everything, doesn’t hold back, just spills everything."
"He does love to talk."
"He gets it from you."
"Excuse me? You’re the one giving detailed explanations."
"That’s called being thorough. You’re chatty."
"I’m conversational."
"Same thing."
She nudged him. "We’re both chatty. He never had a chance."
"Poor kid."
They finished their tea, comfortable silence.
"I’m tired," Elena said.
"Me too."
"Good tired. Not stressed tired."
"There’s a difference?"
"Big one."
They washed the mugs. Turned off the lights. Checked on Leo. Still asleep. Still peaceful.
In their room, Elena collapsed onto the bed.
"I could sleep forever."
"You have depositions at nine."
"Don’t remind me."
Alexander lay down next to her. "We’re doing alright, aren’t we?"
"Yeah. We’re okay."
"Leo’s happy. You’re managing everything. I’m learning to not burn dinner."
"You ordered dinner."
"Learning in progress."
She laughed, turned toward him. "Thank you. For making it work. For sticking around."
"Where else would I be?"
"I don’t know. A lot of people would’ve left. This is hard. Messy. Complicated."
"It’s also good. Really good."
"Yeah. It is."
They lay still in the dark. Tired. Content. Together.
Down the hall, Leo slept with his dinosaurs.
Outside, the city hummed.
Inside, everything was quiet.
Safe.
Normal.
Exactly what they needed. What they’d built.
One ordinary day at a time.
Tomorrow? Depositions, legal prep, strategy.
Tonight? Just dinner, a movie, and bedtime stories.
Tonight was enough.