Page 25 of The Single Dad

“Of course I’m not mad at you!”

“But—but you told me that I had to take care of him.”

I smile at him, a little bit of the worry melting from me. This must be why he was quiet all day. He doesn’t hate me after all.

“It’s okay, Archie,” I tell him. “Sometimes dinosaurs leave to go on adventures, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. But if it’ll make you feel better, I can help you look for him.”

“Really?”

“You bet. He might still be around. Let’s check.”

Archie climbs out of bed, and the two of us spend the next three minutes digging through his room.

Archie goes straight for the laundry basket, which seems a little improbable to me as a place to find the dinosaur. I poke around the desk, getting on my hands and knees to search the floor.

“He’s not in the laundry,” Archie declares. He sounds like he’s already in higher spirits than he was earlier—now that the truth is out, and he knows he’s not in trouble, all he really wants is to find his dinosaur.

“It doesn’t seem like he’s under your desk, either,” I say. “Let’s check the bed—aha!”

I reach under the bed frame for a familiar-looking, long-necked plastic creature. When I emerge triumphant, holding the dinosaur aloft, Archie gasps.

“Looks like someone was exploring under your bed for you,” I say, handing him the dinosaur.

“Thank you!” Archie exclaims, delighted. “You found him!”

“He was already on his way back from his adventure,” I say. “He just got a little lost, that’s all. Happens to the best of us.”

Archie nods seriously, then looks down at the dino. “Don’t get lost again,” he says firmly.

“You might have to help him out with that, kiddo,” I say with a laugh. “But if he ever goes out exploring again, you know to check under your bed. That’s where all the best dinosaur adventures happen.”

Archie giggles, and I stifle my sigh of relief. Thank goodness. Things aren’t nearly as drastic as I thought they were.

I tuck Archie into bed. He insists on laying the dinosaur on the pillow beside him.

“He likes to sleep next to me,” Archie tells me, talkative now that the crisis has passed. “Otherwise, he gets nightmares by himself. That was why I was worried about him, ’cause he doesn’t like to be alone.”

“That makes sense,” I say, nodding seriously. “You’re a good friend to keep him company.”

The door opens partway, and some extra light spills into the room from the hall. I look up to see Mr. Sullivan standing in the entrance, a look of surprise on his face, like he wasn’t expecting to interrupt a conversation between me and Archie.

“You just about ready for bed?” Mr. Sullivan says, stooping to plant a kiss on Archie’s forehead.

Archie hums in affirmation, and Mr. Sullivan smiles. Again, I see that soft look on his face, the one that’s so drastically different from the grave expression he usually wears.

“Glad to hear it. Sleep tight, Archie.” Mr. Sullivan gives me a nod, then retreats back into the hallway.

“Can I get a story tonight?” Archie asks, followed immediately by a wide yawn.

“Sure thing.” I glance over at the bookshelf against the opposite wall, which is stacked with picture books, then look back at Archie. “I could read you a book from the shelf, or I could tell you a story about what happened on your dino friend’s adventure.”

Archie breathes in sharply. “When he was under the bed?”

“What do you think he was doing down there?” I arch an eyebrow, like I know something he doesn’t.

Archie shakes his head, eyes wide with wonder.

I launch into the story, a daring tale of adventure, in which Archie’s dinosaur searches for lost treasure and meets a flock of dust bunnies. I’m making it up as I go along, but Archie seems enraptured anyway—that is, until he starts to drift off, his weariness overpowering his interest in the story.

---