Page 131 of Aria

“Miss Chelsie!”

Sam’s voice interrupted us as he darted down the staircase, his feet eliciting a loud thunk from each step.

I pulled away from Noah carefully, so he remained balanced, just as Sam came barreling into me. “Oh, Sam,” I greeted, lowering myself to his level. “Did you get taller?”

He beamed, swaying back and forth, his arms swinging in time with his body. “Uh-huh. I’m growed-up now.”

“I see that,” I smiled. “Are you taking care of your dad?”

“Yep. I’m helping him get better with my doctor tools and my thermometer. Daddy had abadfever today.”

Noah chuckled behind me. “Sammy has been very attentive. I feel better already.”

“It sounds like you’re in excellent hands.” Nibbling my lip, I addressed the littlest Hayes. “Sam, do you want me to help you pick out your pajamas and tuck you into bed?”

He bounced up and down. “Yes, please! I want my dinosaur jammies.”

“I think that can be arranged.” I glanced at Noah who was leaning against the door frame. Our eyes fused as I swallowed. “I’ll be right back.”

Noah nodded, a ghost of a smile lingering on his face. Sam snatched my hand before I became too lost in Noah’s stare and pulled me toward the staircase.

“You were gone a long time, Miss Chelsie,” Sam said as we made our trek up the stairs. “Were you sick like my dad?”

I guided him to his room before spinning toward his chest of dresser drawers to sort through the assortment of bright colors and patterns. A green set of pajamas decorated in cartoon dinosaurs came into view, so I reached for it with a triumphant smile. “I was waiting for your dad to get better, Sam. I didn’t want to bother him while he was healing. Does that make sense?”

Sam jumped onto his bed, sitting cross-legged and tracing the stitches in his comforter with a clumsy finger. “I think so. Like how I stay in my bed under my blankets when I’m sick, so I don’t get my friends sick, too?”

I sat down beside him and handed him the pajamas. “Just like that,” I grinned through a nod.

“Miss Chelsie?”

“Yes?”

“My dad won’t die… will he?”

My heart raced at his question. The last two weeks flashed through my memory like an old movie reel. “Oh… no, Sam. Your dad is very lucky. He’s going to be okay.”

Sam chewed his lip with consideration, then changed into his special pajamas. I helped tug his feet through the small foot holes.

“Will you read to me?”

I ran a hand through his brown mop of hair. “I would love to.Curious George?”

“Yes!”

I spent the next thirty minutes snuggling next to Sam, reading him outlandish adventures of a curious monkey. He would giggle every so often, pulling the blankets up to his chin and nuzzling his head against my shoulder, and I savored every moment. I was almost finished with the story when I looked down, noticing that his eyes had closed. His breathing became rhythmic, his arms falling still at his sides.

“Sweet dreams, Sammy,” I whispered, placing a delicate kiss on his head before carefully removing myself out from under him. I switched off his lamp and turned on his Buzz Lightyear nightlight, closing the closet door so there would be no conjuring of monsters or boogeymen.

As I turned to leave, I halted in the doorway, overcome with emotion I couldn’t quite pinpoint. A solemn disquiet washed over me.

“Chelsie?”

I poked my head out into the hallway and spotted Noah at the bottom of the staircase. “I… I’m coming.” Sparing Sam a final glance, I closed his door. “Sorry… we got caught up inCurious George,” I explained as I made my way down the stairs.

Noah was leaning against the railing, his right hand holding up a glass of sparkling wine. “It’s all good. It took me that long just to get the damn wine bottle open.”

A smile tipped my lips as I accepted his offer, eyeing the glass curiously. “Are you trying to get me tipsy, Mr. Hayes?”

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