Sunday at home

Sunday morning, 9:30 a.m.

The soft sound of rain drifted through the window, and the gray light of New York’s sky filtered through the half-drawn curtains. James woke up first but didn’t move. He lay still for a few minutes, listening to Katie’s calm breathing beside him. It was Sunday—no one had to go anywhere. The whole day belonged to them.

Slowly, he got out of bed, stretched, and put on his usual childish outfit. But this time, he added something new: a plastic apron with a dinosaur print that Katie had bought last week but they hadn’t used yet. Then he opened the hidden drawer and took out a sketchbook and a set of sharpened colored pencils. He wanted to draw something for Katie today.

Just as he was putting the last pencil down, Katie stepped out of the room with half-open eyes and messy hair, yawning. “Good morning, little Jimmy.”

James jumped up and ran to her. “Good morning, Mommy! You’re awake! Come see what I drew!”

Katie, still waking up, made her way to the couch and sat down beside him. James placed the notebook on her lap and said proudly, “This is Mommy, this is me, and this is our dog!”

Katie laughed. “Dog? We don’t have a dog!”

“We do! His name is Almond!”

Katie stroked his hair. “Alright, Almond looks very nice. But first breakfast, then drawing.”

Sunday, 10:15 a.m.

Breakfast was pancakes. Katie made one large pancake for herself and three small heart-shaped ones for James. He sat in his high chair, cutting the pancakes with a plastic knife, but instead of eating much, he was drawing with maple syrup on his plate.

Katie raised an eyebrow. “Jimmy, didn’t I tell you not to play with your food?”

James gave an innocent look. “I’m drawing, Mommy!”

“With syrup?”

“Yes! It’s a dinosaur field!”

Katie sighed and smiled. “Alright, finish your dinosaurs, then give the plate to Mommy to wash.”

James continued happily, while Katie sipped her coffee, watching him with loving eyes. These moments felt sacred to her—when he became so absorbed in his role that he almost forgot he was a 29-year-old man.

Sunday, 11:30 a.m.

After breakfast, it was “play time.” Katie tidied the rug and spread all the toys in the middle of the room. James built a city out of Lego, drove small cars through its streets, and Katie sat beside him playing the role of a mother from a neighboring house using dolls.

Suddenly James stood up. “Mommy! Let’s make our house bigger!”

“How?”

“With drawing! Let’s draw a big house on paper, with a backyard full of trees!”

Katie agreed. They spread a large sheet of paper on the table and both started drawing with colored pencils and markers. James drew a bright yellow sun, a swing in the yard, and a small pool. Katie drew a wooden fence and flower pots.

James suddenly paused and looked at the drawing. “Mom… is this house ours?”

Katie hesitated. “It’s our imaginary house, Jimmy. But as long as we’re together, any house can be our home.”

James smiled and went back to finishing his drawing.

Sunday, 1:00 p.m.

After lunch—grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup—Katie said, “Movie time!”

James jumped with excitement. “Movie! Movie!”

Katie had prepared a list of animated films. James chose Spirited Away, a gentle and imaginative animation about a boy who befriends spirits.

Katie arranged the couch with blankets and pillows, pulled James close, and covered them both with a blanket. James rested his head on her shoulder and curled his legs up. During the movie, he kept commenting every few minutes: “Mommy, is that spirit scary?”, “Why is that boy alone?”, “I want a spirit friend too!”

Katie answered patiently and occasionally kissed his cheek. During sad scenes, James held onto her tighter, and she wrapped her arm around him.

Halfway through, he whispered, “Mom… thank you for being with me today.”

Katie felt her heart tighten. “I’m always with you, sweetheart.”

Sunday, 4:00 p.m.

After the movie, the weather brightened a little. Katie pulled the curtains aside. “Let’s get some fresh air.”

James eagerly grabbed his cap and put on his fabric shoes. They went out onto the small balcony—a narrow space with two chairs and a pot of flowers. James sat down, swinging his legs, watching the busy street below. People walked with colorful umbrellas, yellow taxis honked, and the smell of rain mixed with coffee drifted from a café across the street.

Katie sat beside him and brought hot tea for herself and warm milk for James.

James stared into the distance. “Mom, do you think other people live like this too?”

“Like what?”

“Like… having a secret no one knows?”

Katie thought for a moment. “Of course. Everyone has a private world, Jimmy. Some in their minds, some in their homes. We’re lucky to share ours.”

James smiled and drank his milk. The cold autumn air flushed his cheeks.

A few minutes later, he said sleepily, “Mom… my eyes are getting heavy.”

Katie chuckled. “Let’s go to bed, Jimmy.”

Sunday, 5:30 p.m.

Katie carried James to the bedroom. He lay down on the small bed while she pulled the blanket up to his chin. She placed his favorite teddy bear beside him and gently stroked his hair.

With half-closed eyes, James said, “Mom… today was the best day.”

Katie leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Every Sunday can be like this, Jimmy.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

A few minutes later, his breathing became steady. Katie looked at his peaceful face—the tired lines had disappeared, replaced by a faint smile.

She quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly open, and went to the kitchen. While chopping vegetables for dinner, she suddenly remembered the drawing. She went back to the table and picked up the large sheet of paper. On the back, in childish handwriting, it said:

“For the best mom in the world. From little Jimmy.”

Katie kissed the drawing and stuck it on the refrigerator—right in the center, where she would see it every morning before going to work.

And in that small apartment in the heart of Manhattan, Sunday ended in peace—filled with color, laughter, movies, and a kind of love that fit no contract, but lived in every beat of their hearts.