Page 44 of Bedtime Stories
I callat the same time I always do, settling back against the headboard with the lamp turned low. His voice comes through sleepy but eager.
“Hi, Daddy.”
That one word pulls the whole day off me like shedding armor. I smile, though he can’t see it.
“Hi, baby. Did you brush your teeth?”
“Yes.” There’s a pause followed by soft rustling. “I’m already in bed. Socks too.”
“Good boy.” My chest warms. “Want your story?”
“Yes, please.”
I think for a second, then let the first idea spill out.
“Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved ice cream. His Daddy took him out for the biggest cone they had—three scoops stacked so high they nearly toppled.”
Oren giggles softly, and I imagine him pulling his blanket up under his chin.
“What flavor?”
“Superhero Swirl.”
He hums, clearly pleased, then interrupts, “Make it… Daddy’s favorite flavor on the bottom. That way he can taste it when he… um… licks around the edge.” His voice drops shy, as if he isn’t sure if he should have said that.
My pulse jumps, but I keep my voice calm.
“Mmm. Smart boy. The Daddy liked that, because he got to share the taste with his boy.”
There’s an audible breath on the other end of the line. “What did it taste like?”
I picture him biting his lip, waiting for my answer.
“Sweet,” I murmur. “Sticky. Rich chocolate. And the Daddy couldn’t take his eyes off the way his boy’s tongue slid along the cone. So messy, but so eager.”
Oren’s breathing picks up. He whispers, “The boy let Daddy have a bite. Right from his cone. They touched tongues for just a second.”
My free hand tightens in the sheets. He’s guiding, pushing at the edges of his own bravery, and I let him.
“And Daddy told him he was the sweetest treat he’d ever had.”
Silence falls for a beat, heavy with meaning. Then Oren whispers, so faint I almost miss it, “That’s the best story.”
I smile into the phone, my voice low. “We can keep adding to it. Little by little. As much as you want, baby.”
Another rustle, then a yawn. He’s half-asleep now, but I know he’s still smiling.
“Goodnight, Daddy.”
“Goodnight, my sweet boy.”
I end the call, staring at the ceiling, my heart pounding. He has no idea how much he undoes me with a few whispered words.
