Communion

It was the pleasant mornings that came, of waking up to her three year old daughter jumping at the end of her bed; that Rose had come to a realization. Life was good again.

She could roll over, know her husband was there by her side, and could contently watch him, drool, snore and mumble in his slumber. She always enjoyed this part of waking up in the morning; even if waking up to her daughter using their bed like it were a trampoline.

Rose quietly slipped out of bed and instructed her daughter to go downstairs and wait for breakfast. She sidled over to the window and let it open, a whistling warm May breeze fanned into the room. The window's sheer curtains brushed over her skin, as they flapped in the melodic current of air.

She leant her head out through the nook, admiring the sounds of a thousand sparrows chirping in the tree outside their window. She ran her hand over the silkness of her white night-slip before turning around to reset her gaze on her sleeping husband.

She sauntered back over to their bed with a smile; finding a comfortable seat next to her beloved Frank. Brushing her hand gently over the rough stubble on his unshaven cheek, his tired gaze opened to an eyelet.

"Morning..."

"Hey..." he breathed as his wife brought her lips gently down upon his.

Their lips parted gracefully after a few wonderous moments. Rose remet her gaze with her husband, whom was starting to look wider awake by the second. "You feel like some bacon and eggs?" Rose asked with a face of sheer radiance. Differing from her usual pale complexion.

"Mmhmm. I'd love that," Tre replied with a coarse croaking morning voice.

"I thought so," Rose asserted, before planting a kiss on his nose. "You want to stay in bed?"

"Mmhmm..."

"'kay," she giggled.

"Thank you," Tre added, reclosing his heavy eyes.

Rose smiled, nodded her head and made off down the upstair's hall.

Tiptoeing downstairs and into the foyer, Rose could faintly hear Michelle humming a nursery rhyme out in the kitchen. She followed the low rhythmic purring out into the canteen, to which she found her daughter sitting on the floor staring curiously at the vibrant coloured pictures of a children's book.

"You want bacon and eggs Bugaboo?" Rose asked, offering her daughter a friendly smile, only mothers can give. The toddler's green eyes gazed up at her mother, wide and comparible to that of a Billie Joe Armstrong, Basket Case impersonation.

"I wike bagon." Michelle grinned, mischieviously like her father.

"Me too. Okay Bugaboo, bacon it is," Rose giggled. She reached up overhead her, pulling a cast iron pan out of the storage of a cupboard. "Do you think I should make pancakes too sweetie? Do you think daddy would like pancakes?"

"I think daddy would love pancakes," Tre replied out of nothingness, as he came up and gently wrapped his arms around Rose, running his hands over the silk of her night-slip.

Rose smiled suddenly, enjoying the sensation of her spouse's lips, now upon her neck. "Frank..." Rose laughed, glancing down at her daughter whom was watching mother and father share a chemestric filled moment.

"Mmm...fine..." Tre grinned in response, pulling off his wife and looking at their three year old daughter. "Morning Michelle."

"Mor'in'," Michelle grinned.

"What' ya readin'?"

"I don' wead. I wike picters," Michelle replied.

"Cool, I like pictures too." Tre smiled like the wonderful funny man he was. The funny man that had been exposed or enclosed inside of him, through different times and events in his life. His full intentions were to let his daughter know, she could be friends with him, even if she were afraid or felt astrayed.

"Mawmy, ungle Mike 'n' Wyan come over t'day?" Michelle asked with a smile upon her cherubic face.

Rose glanced at her husband nervously before looking back at Michelle. "No sweetie, not today. Your daddy will play with you though."

"Actually, I was going to go to the studio today," Tre sighed, giving an upset glance towards his daughter.

"Oh. Well, don't you think some other things might be a little bit more important?" Rose motioned her head towards her daughter; her body language clearing symbolizing to him, that she felt father daughter bonding was much more important in his life right now.

Tre sighed again, "Yes...of course."

Rose nodded. "Hun, can you put Munchkin in her highchair and grab some utensils for me?" Rose asked, as she flipped the eggs that were quickly sizzling in the large pan next to a lovely portion of pancakes and bacon.

"Of course babe."

After having shared a pleasant breakfast with her family, Rose escaped to the upstairs. Much to the dismay of her husband, who pondered why she had left the room in such a hurry without saying a word.

Tre shrugged it off, cleared the table and began to load the dishwasher. His eyes met with that of his daughter; mucky and running around the house with a dirty bib attached to her neck. Tre had noted, Michelle had become increasingly more comfortable with his presence, with each day that passed, from the two months prior he was released from prison.

He felt this to be a new start at his chance at having a happy normal homelife with his wife and daughter. A wife and family, like Billie Joe had been blessed with most of his adult life. A life that would be so blissful, it surpassed him being on parol, or any of the events that had taken place in the last four years.

So blissful, nothing or nobody could stand in the way...

© 2006 R.K.R.M