Somebody got caught coming in late...
Always an early riser, Misha was working on a jumbo size mug of coffee and his car simultaneously when the garage door on the bay next to his opened and his father’s jeep pulled in. He casually straightened from his stance over the engine and watched a rumpled, heavy eyed Logan exit the vehicle and head for the house door.
“Good morning,” Misha called out cheerfully. “And how was YOUR night?”
Logan turned to give his son a look and received a smirk in return. “Get yer sister home all right?”
“If I hadn’t, I’m sure Mr. Stark would have called you hours ago and interrupted your night out,” Misha said. Dad looked like he’d been through a week’s worth of no sleep. There were no marks on his skin exposed in the opened shirt and pushed up sleeves, but the man reeked of cigar smoke and perfume. Misha could smell it across the garage. Dad’s hair was sticking up every which way, and his clothes were wrinkled and fastened only enough to keep them on. Yeah, Mom and Dad had spent some quality time together, he would’ve bet on it. Except Dad would never give it up and Misha had no proof. It didn’t stop him from ribbing the old man.
"You know, I'm the one that's supposed to stay out all night living it up, and you're supposed to be waiting to yell at me for making you worry. How's Mom feeling this morning?"
“Yer ma’s gonna call ya later to set up plans,” Logan said, ignoring his son’s jib. “She’s had a hard few months. Don’t give her a hard time.”
That sobered the smirk off Misha’s face. His eyes fell to the engine. He liked the 1970s engines. They were simple and straightforward, satisfying to break down and rebuild. Once computer chips were introduced the fun had drained away from a Saturday afternoon tinker and fast drive. It was why he’d chosen this car. He didn’t need an advanced degree in computer technology to enjoy working with his hands. He just liked things to be simple. If only people were so easy to understand. “I wish she’d retire and settle down. She looks exhausted.”
“An' do what? People like us don’t retire, kid. Don’t ride her about it.”
“You did.” The unspoken implication was there. Misha’s very existence forced his father to make a radical change to his lifestyle. Misha had done little to impede his mother’s way of life. Right, what was he thinking? The time he needed her to be his mother had long passed. How old had he been when he finally realized the pretty redhaired woman who visited a couple of times a year was his mother and not just a friend of his dad's? Five? Six?
“Don’t know if ya noticed, Mikey, but this ain’t retirement. I’m pacin’ myself for the long haul.”
“She looks like she’s burning herself out. What happens if she never comes back from one of those missions?”
Logan didn’t say anything for a moment, waiting for Misha’s eyes to leave the car and meet his. “I’ll tell ya what’ll happen, son. If she don’t show back up from a mission when she’s supposed to, we go get her.”
Misha watched his father disappear through the inner door and returned his attention to his car. He had little league practice today, and he needed to send an invitation to Mom for lunch after Mother's Day. He imagined that now that she'd seen him, and probably relaxed with Dad, she would spend couple of days with Anya. She should. The brat needed her more than he did.