⏱ ~4 min reading
Dad went to work early — sometimes Nikita was still asleep when Dad left. But today Nikita woke up earlier. There was only one light on in the kitchen — the one above the stove. Dad was standing by the sink, finishing his coffee from a large white cup.
— Dad.
"Oh, I'm awake, kitty. Why are you up so early?"
— I wanted to see you.
Dad squatted down. His eyes were still misty with the morning fog that comes with a cup of coffee.
"I'll be back in the evening. You'll be at Grandma's after dinner, then Mom will pick you up.".
— Ugh.
Nikita watched as his father put on his jacket. The jacket was dark blue, with large pockets. His father zipped it up, took his keys. He kissed Nikita on the top of his head.
— Until evening.
The door clicked.
Nikita stood in the corridor for a while longer. The house became empty - as if something had left it along with Dad. Nikita knew that Dad would return. But a whole day is a long time. A very, very long time.
Mom came into the kitchen, still asleep, in her bathrobe.
— Didn't you sleep?
— I saw my dad off.
Mom smiled. She sat Nikita on her lap and poured him cocoa with milk foam.
Over breakfast, Nikita was thinking. An idea appeared in his head - small, warm, like a cocoa foam.
After breakfast he took his sketchbook and pencils. He sat down at the table. He thought. Then he began to draw.
First — a sun. Big, yellow. But not an ordinary one — with a mustache. Because dad also has a mustache, small, dark ones that tickle when dad kisses him on the cheek. The sun with the mustache smiled at Nikita from the sheet.
Then Nikita drew a house. The house had three windows. In one was Mom. In the second was Nikita. In the third was Dad. All three were smiling.
Then Nikita drew a big heart. He wrote letters inside. He didn't know all the letters - his mother showed him "T", "A", "T", "O". Nikita drew them carefully, unevenly, but with all his might.
DAD.
"Mom," he called out. "How do you write 'I love you'?"
Mom came. She looked at the drawing. She took a deep breath - it seemed to warm her up.
"Do you want me to write thinly with a pencil and you circle it?"
— I want to.
Mom wrote. Nikita circled it — slowly, sticking out the tip of his tongue in effort. "I LOVE YOU, DAD.".
— Good, son.
— Where is Dad's jacket?
There was no jacket — Dad left in it. But there was another one. An old one that Dad used to go to the garage to get. Nikita thought about it some more and asked:
— Mom, does Dad have a pickpocket at work today?
"He always has a pocket. In the jacket he left in.".
"And when he comes back, can I put it down?"
"You can. Or you can do it this way. I'll take a picture for you, and we'll send it to Dad right now — on his phone.".
Nikita thought.
— I want both. Now in the phone, and in the evening in the pocket. Because in the pocket is when he is not expecting it.
Mom laughed and took a picture. A minute later, the phone rang softly - dad wrote. Mom read it out loud: "Thank you, kitty. I hung it on the wall near the computer. Now I'll smile all day.".
Nikita folded the sheet in half. He hid it in an envelope from the school game. He placed it on the bedside table in the hallway, in a prominent place.
When dad returned in the evening, Nikita ran up.
- Dad, give me a hand.
He put the envelope in his dad's hand.
"That's when you leave tomorrow. At home, let it lie quietly in your pocket.".
Dad looked at the envelope. He kissed Nikita on the top of his head — like in the morning, only a little longer.
— I'll wear it all day.
In the morning, when Dad left, Nikita was still asleep. But the envelope was in Dad's pocket. A little sun with a mustache smiled in the dark blue fabric.
All day.
💡 Love is transmitted through drawing.