Long Day

Long Day 

     It had been a long day, and he was tired.  Exhausted, really.  He knew the responsibilities that came with his post, and he expected them.  He just hadn’t expected them to suddenly pile up around him.  It seemed as if everyone beneath him somehow thought that “passing the buck” was an acceptable action, a permissible manner of getting the job done.  And when that passed buck finally came to a screeching halt, it ended up on his desk, waiting to be dealt with.  But that was just what it seemed like.  Perhaps, in actuality, he’d gotten behind on his work.  Maybe he’d accidentally missed a few deadlines.  No, he hadn’t.  His calendar was double- and triple-checked.  Besides, if he ever were about to miss something, his aide would remind him.  Unless they were all playing a joke on him . . .  No, that was a stupid thought.  Why should they?  He finally had to admit that there was simply a copiosity of things that needed to be accomplished and far too few hours in which to accomplish them.

     When it became apparent that he wouldn’t make it home in time for dinner, he called to say so.  The answer was as understanding as the woman who gave it.  He’d known he wouldn’t be there for dinner; he just hadn’t thought he’d almost not be there at all.  By the time he had finished all that had been left undone, he had nibbled away three protein bars and downed a half-dozen cups of caffa, and his eyes were dry and scratchy from staring at computer consoles and focusing on paperwork.  Oh, he loved his job, and he loved the fleet, but why didn’t anyone else do this work?

     He knew he’d been there too long when he finally put away the last file and got up to leave.  He stole a momentary glance out the wide bay window in his office; it was night outside and all the lights in the apartment complex down the avenue were dark.  He dared to look at the chrono on the wall and found it was approaching midnight.  Had he really stayed that long?  It seemed almost impossible, but looking out at the stars that twinkled faintly far above the glittering vista of Coruscant, outshined by the bright city lights but not defeated in beauty, he knew it was the truth.  He sighed and turned from the window, pausing only once to close the shades and trade his uniform for more comfortable attire.  He always kept a change of clothes in the office, either for emergencies or moments like this when he didn’t want to walk in so late and still appear to have his heart at his desk.  He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand as he left the room and headed down to the turbolift for the main lobby, flipping light switches as he went.  That was the other indication of the late hour: he was the last one out and therefore the one on whom the task of turning out the lights fell.  When he reached the front door, he flipped the main switch, and the building went dark, save a few security lights scattered throughout.  He stepped out the door and locked it behind himself, quickly typing in the security code before turning and walking away, glad to leave it all behind until the dawn of the next week.  Shoving his hands in his battered jacket’s pockets, he hunched his shoulders forward and strode down the sidewalk to the Republic headquarters’ parking garage; his airspeeder was the only one there.  Another stifled yawn; the last of the caffa was wearing off.  As he put the speeder into gear, he couldn’t help but think of his warm, soft bed back at home.  He couldn’t help but think of Lire and wonder if she had waited up for him.  If she had and was sitting in her favorite chair in the den, the man she’d see walking through the front door wouldn’t be the admiral of the Republic fleet; no, she’d see Carth Onasi, husband, father, normal guy—a very tired normal guy.

     The ride across town to the apartment was short and quiet except for the roaring of other airspeeders in the traffic lanes.  He’d never really realized that so many people were nocturnal, in a sense.  Perhaps that was because he was normally sound asleep at that hour, or, if he wasn’t, then he was safe inside the quiet peace of his home.  He smiled at the thought and accelerated just a bit, blinking slightly to keep himself awake long enough to pull into the speeder dock at the apartment.

     He arrived a few minutes later and looked up as he climbed from the airspeeder.  The apartment was more like a two-story condominium with room to spare stationed over the speeder dock.  It wasn’t overly spacious, and it certainly wasn’t an august royal palace, but it was comfortable and had enough room in which a family of three could live and breathe—a family which, in only a few short months, would have five members.  He grinned to himself at that thought as he headed inside.

     The lights in the den were on even though it seemed no one was around.  He tumbled onto the couch long enough to tug off his boots and flex his toes.  Exhaling heavily, he lay there for a minute before easing himself up and wandering into the kitchen.  There was a note on the counter next to the sink: a piece of flimsi with Lire’s slanting hand scrawled across it.

I put your supper in the fridge.  All you have to do is heat it up.  Love you.

     He smiled faintly but didn’t fetch his dinner.  The three protein bars he’d had earlier were still with him, so he wasn’t hungry.  He just opened the faucet and filled a glass with water, drinking it down before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs.  When he reached the landing, he went to the first door there and quietly opened it, peeking inside.  The room was totally dark except for a small blue nightlight, and the almost mystical glow from it cast azure beams across a child’s sleeping face.  Little two-year-old Devin, his firstborn with Lire, was sound asleep in his bed, his thumb in his mouth.  The bed’s guardrail was up so the child would not accidentally tumble out, and between that and the holo of his father tucked under his arm, Carth could not help but sigh to himself.  Force, he loved that boy . . .  He padded into the bedroom and over to the bed.  Devin stirred somewhat but did not awaken; his thumb never left his mouth.  His father just smoothed the head of tousled brown hair before bending down and planting a gentle, paternal kiss on the soft rosy cheek.  Carth smiled lovingly at his son before more securely tucking the blankets around him.  He didn’t take away the holo, however; he had a feeling that the boy had said good night to the picture since he couldn’t say it to his father’s face.  But still the boy slept peacefully on, and eventually, Carth silently left the room, pulling the door closed behind him with a soft click.

     He walked down the hall a short distance before coming to the partially closed door to his bedroom.  The lights were out; he figured Lire was already asleep.  He felt a pang in his chest because he hadn’t come home early enough to say good night, but then he told himself that he’d be there in the morning and could surprise her just be being there.  He could hear the morning conversation now: “When did you get in?”  “Oh, around midnight.  You were already asleep; I didn’t want to wake you.”  “I wish you had!”  He chuckled faintly as he pushed the door open and stepped into the darkened room, peering through the blackness.  There lay Lire, fast asleep in their bed, lying on her back with one arm splayed across her pillow and even his.  Her breathing was quiet and even as her chest gently rose and fell beneath the sheets, and her other arm was draped across her middle.  Even from where he stood at the door, Carth could tell that her head was turned slightly as if she’d fallen asleep gazing at his empty side of the bed and wishing he were home.  So he silently crept in and over to her.  She looked almost angelic, lying there in placidity.  In that instant, he was more grateful than he’d ever been before for her, and he leaned down, his hands on the edge of the bed to counter his weight, and laid a loving good-night kiss on her cheek.  She moved only faintly as he turned away, tugging off his shirt and trousers and pulling on his sleep pants, having fetched them from the closet.  The next moment, he heard the rustling of the sheets behind him, and then a sleepy voice spoke out in the darkness.

     “Carth?”

     He turned a bit, running a hand through his hair and coming to the bedside.  His kiss had awakened Lire, who was now rubbing her face and slowly sitting up on her elbows.  He sat down at her side, causing the mattress to squeak a bit, and reached over to pat her hand.

     “Hey there, beautiful.”

     She smiled at him, even though she still seemed groggy.  She eased herself up into a sitting position, stifling a yawn with her palm.

     “When’d you get in?”

     “Not too long ago.  Sorry to wake you.”

     “Nah, ‘s okay.  You have your supper?”

     “Had a snack back at the office, so I wasn’t hungry.”

     “Oh.”

     There was silence as Lire yawned again.  Carth reached over and smoothed her jet black hair, trailing his hand across her cheek.  She put her hand against his and gazed into his eyes for a long minute, sighing faintly.  Then he leaned over to her and gently kissed her, first on the lips, then on the forehead.

     “Go back to sleep.  You need the rest.”

     She nodded in agreement and lightly kissed his stubbled jaw, squeezing his shoulder before snuggling down under the covers and tugging them up to her chin.  She exhaled tiredly before blinking up at him.

     “I love you.”

     He smiled down at her, fluffing his pillow.

     “I love you, too.”

      She nestled into the bed and closed her eyes, seemingly drifting off to sleep almost instantly.  Carth crawled in beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and holding her close.  Sighing with exhaustion, he realized that this was the first time he’d been off his feet all day, and every muscle in his body just seemed to relax one at a time.  He looked up at the dark ceiling for several minutes before the ticking of the chrono on Lire’s bedside table became too much to bear.  His eyelids sagged once, twice, before closing completely.  After all, it had been a long day.