Little Parker

**6:42 a.m. – Queens, the Parkers’ small apartment**

Morning light slips through the thin curtains and lands on Benjamin’s face. The one-year-old, with dark hair and May’s brown eyes, rolls on his little mattress and wakes with a bright “Da-da!” Peter, now twenty, still in faded Spider-Man pajama pants, slides out of bed. May, fifty-two, her brown hair threaded with a few silver strands, is already in the kitchen: loose shirt, floral apron, coffee on the stove, the smell of toast in the air.

Peter scoops Benjamin up, kisses his forehead, and carries him to May.

“Good morning, my heroes.” May smiles, hands Peter a mug of coffee, and takes Benjamin with her other arm. The baby reaches for her breast; he still nurses. May settles on the couch, lifts her shirt, and Benjamin latches on quietly. Peter sits beside them, arm around May’s shoulders, thumb gently stroking the back of Benjamin’s neck.

**8:15 a.m. – Building parking lot**

Peter starts his old motorcycle; Benjamin is strapped into the child seat behind him, tiny helmet on. May comes down with Benjamin’s diaper bag and a bottle.

“Don’t forget, you have class at two.”

“I know, love.” Peter kisses May’s forehead, then Benjamin’s.

May stands and watches until the motorcycle disappears down the street.

**9:30 a.m. – Local daycare**

May drops Benjamin off. The teacher smiles: “He took his first steps here yesterday!”

Tears gather in May’s eyes, but she smiles: “Like his dad—always rushing ahead.”

**11:00 a.m. – Home**

May walks to the neighborhood bodega; the cart fills with bananas, milk, eggs, diapers. Mr. Patel, the owner, asks: “How’s Benjamin?”

“Perfect. He’s saying da-da, ma-ma, ba-ba.”

Mr. Patel laughs: “You’ve got a happy family.”

**2:45 p.m. – Empire State University**

Peter sits in quantum physics, laptop full of notes. His phone buzzes:

May: “Benjamin’s napping. Miss you.”

Peter: “Home in two hours. Dinner?”

May: “Lasagna. And you.”

**5:30 p.m. – Homecoming**

Peter walks in with Benjamin on his shoulder. The baby is drowsy but reaches for May the moment he sees her. She takes him, kisses his cheek, and looks at Peter:

“Tired?”

“Not when I’ve got you two.”

**7:00 p.m. – Family dinner**

The small kitchen table: lasagna, salad, juice for Benjamin. Peter feeds the baby from his lap with a tiny spoon. May snaps a photo: “For the family album.”

Benjamin, mouth full, says “Da-da!” and everyone laughs.

**8:30 p.m. – Bath time**

The tub is full of bubbles. Benjamin plays with a rubber duck. Peter and May kneel beside the tub; May washes Benjamin’s hair, Peter lifts him to splash. Benjamin giggles, water splashes Peter’s face. May laughs and kisses Peter’s forehead.

**9:15 p.m. – Baby’s bedtime**

Benjamin sleeps in his crib, wrapped in a blue Spider-Man blanket. Peter and May sit beside the crib, hands clasped.

May whispers: “Remember the first night we brought him home? You stayed up all night, afraid he’d cry.”

Peter smiles: “Now I want to stay up every night, just to watch him.”

**10:00 p.m. – Bedroom**

The door closes. Peter and May fall into each other’s arms. Clothes slip quietly to the floor. Peter presses May to the wall, hand sliding under her thigh, lifting her. May wraps her legs around his waist.

He enters her slowly; even after two years, May’s body is still a revelation: warm, tight, full of love.

May whispers in his ear: “Slow… Benjamin’s sleeping.”

Peter answers with a kiss. Their movements are gentle, deep, a nightly dance.

May climaxes with her lips sealed to Peter’s; Peter follows a moment later, quiet and deep inside her.

Afterward, they fall asleep entwined; their breaths one, their hearts one.

**Midnight**

Benjamin cries in his sleep. Peter wakes instantly, nudges May. They both go to the crib. May lifts him, Peter adjusts the blanket.

The baby settles again.

In the dim night-light, May looks at Peter:

“We built a little world, just the three of us.”

Peter takes her hand: “And it’s the best thing I’ve ever saved.”

Outside, Queens keeps moving: sirens, bodega gates, the distant rumble of the 7 train. Inside this small apartment, three hearts beat in the same rhythm.