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Cole shoots to his feet, dropping the file on the chair. He is across the hall in a flash. I follow quietly to find him kneeling at Charlie’s bedside.
“I’m right here, kiddo.” Cole smooths his hand over Charlie’s forehead and brushes back his dark hair as the little boy clutches at his t-shirt. “What do you need?”
“Can I have a juice?”
“Of course. Let me go grab it from the kitchen.”
“No go,” Charlie protests.
Cole looks up at me beseechingly.
“Can you stay here just for a minute?” he whispers. “I’ve been mixing apple juice with electrolyte solution. I just have to run and grab it from the fridge.”
“Of course.” I step fully into the room.
“Miss Savannah’s gonna stay with you while I get you some juice, is that okay bud?”
I move closer and sit on the end of Charlie’s bed.
“Hey there. I heard you’re not feeling well. Can I stay in here with you for a minute?” I ask softly.
Charlie thinks about it, his blue eyes trained on me. Then he lets his dad go with a nod.
Cole stands up and leaves the room at a sprint.
Charlie scrunches up his face, looking ready to cry.
“Do you know what my mom used to do for me when I was sick?” I ask to distract him.
Charlie squirms and shakes his head.
I get off the bed and slide to the floor beside him. “Do you mind if I touch your forehead?”
He looks at me for a long second, then lies back and shakes his head again. I touch Charlie’s forehead with a finger, smoothing each eyebrow slowly.
“Close your eyes,” I suggest.
His eyes drift shut. I continue touching his face with a fingertip, tracing gentle strokes down his nose and across his cheeks. I hum a little, the tune of ‘Baby Mine’ coming to me.
My mom used to hum that song when she stroked my face whenever I couldn’t sleep or felt sick.
A wave of sadness rolls over me. It’s been a while since I’ve missed Mom so sharply that it feels like I have trouble even breathing.
Charlie’s breathing deepens as I continue my humming and stroking. I hear Cole’s bare feet coming down the hallway and turn my face to look at him.
He arches a brow at me as he elbows his way into the room, but I don’t stop humming or touching Charlie’s face. Cole comes closer and sits a red plastic cup down on the nightstand.
He assesses the situation for a moment, then moves back to the doorway and leans against the jamb. I can feel his eagle-eyed stare on my body as I comfort his son.
We stay like that for a few minutes. When I finally stop touching Charlie, he’s asleep. Slipping off my heels, I get up as soundlessly as possible and creep toward the door.
Once we’re back in the office, Cole sits on the loveseat with a huge sigh. I take the seat next to him, placing my heels on the floor beside the couch.
“Thank you.” Cole’s voice rumbles from his chest. He sounds exhausted. “How did you know what to do?”
I smile at him and cock my head.
“It’s what my mom used to do for me when I was a kid.”
