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‘Put your head on my lap, sweetie,’ Hailey suggested, and she helped get Tom into position. ‘Lie very, very still.’
Callum filled the eyedropper with olive oil and gently dripped it into Tom’s ear. Tom whimpered as the warm oil oozed inside.
‘It’s OK, Tom,’ Hailey soothed, stroking his forehead. ‘It’ll just feel a little strange.’
Callum refilled the eyedropper and squirted some more in. The object was to drown the insect or at least weigh its legs down with a viscous substance, thus preventing it from moving around. The oil immediately alleviating the pain of seemingly having the percussion section of an orchestra playing at full throttle in his son’s head.
Callum was hoping he wouldn’t have to use the angled forceps to remove the insect and as they watched, the black bug floated out of Tom’s ear canal on a surge of olive oil.
‘Hey—there it is!’ Callum removed the offending bug, grabbing some tissues out of the box on the coffee-table and placing it on one of them. ‘We got it, Tommy. It’s out.’
Tom sniffled. ‘Can I look?’
Callum used another tissue to absorb the oil puddled in Tom’s ear. He helped him up, holding the tissue in place to catch the remainder of the oil as it ran out.
Tom looked at the small black bug. ‘What sort of beetle is it, Daddy?’
‘Looks like a stinkbug to me,’ Callum mused.
‘Can I take it for show and tell?’
Callum and Hailey laughed. ‘Sure. We’ll put it in a specimen pot.’
Tom crawled onto his father’s lap and snuggled into his chest. They all sat for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of another crisis averted.
‘Daddy,’ Tom said, sitting up. ‘How come you don’t have a shirt on?’
Callum glanced at Hailey. It was hard to believe now that she had pulled it off him not even ten minutes ago. ‘It was hot,’ he said.
Hailey looked away but not before Callum saw the rise of colour in her cheeks. Very hot.
‘Ooh, can I have a hot chocolate, please, Daddy?’
Callum laughed, well used to Tom’s fluid style of conversation and short attention span. Normally he would have said no. He’d have awarded Tom full points for trying but he still would have said no. But Tom’s scream had given him such a fright he was prepared to indulge his son a little. Tom had, after all, saved him from himself. ‘Okay. But then straight to bed.’
‘Hailey, too.’
‘Oh, I don’t know, Tom. It’s getting late. I think I might go home.’ She didn’t really want to hang around and witness their domestic bliss. Her brain was overloaded with enough images to decipher, not least Callum’s still bare, very sexy chest—she didn’t need any more. She really should go. Think herself lucky that things were halted before they’d gone too far.
‘Ple-e-ease, Hailey,’ Tom pleaded. ‘Please.’
Hailey stared at his earnest little face. She shouldn’t. She’d already overstepped way too many lines tonight. Falling asleep with him had been her first. She had a feeling that Tom would all too easily wheedle his way into her heart. God knew, his father was certainly making inroads. Together they were a dangerous team. But she did have him to thank for bringing their hang-the-consequences passion to a screaming halt.
‘OK. Just this once.’
They all adjourned to the kitchen. Callum, still shirtless, placed Tom on the central bench and clattered around to find what he needed, keeping up a constant patter with Tom. Anything to keep his mind off what had almost happened in the lounge room.
Hailey watched them together, laughing and chatting, plainly adoring each other, obviously a happy family unit. The two musketeers. She’d been here before. Teetering on the edge of something wonderful, on the brink of inclusion, only to discover when the chips were down that there wasn’t any room for her. Callum was still in love with his wife, the wonderful Annie, and she’d be foolish in the extreme to set herself up to play second fiddle again.
They drank their hot chocolate in the kitchen, Tom sitting on the counter, his legs swinging as if he was holding court. Hailey and Callum leaned their hips against the benches, both grateful for the egocentricity of a six-year-old with a milk moustache. Tom didn’t notice their distraction or lack of enthusiasm.
Half an hour later Callum bundled Tom off to bed. After a bug hunt in his room revealed no more predators waiting to acquaint themselves with his eardrum, Tom was content to put his head down.
Callum stroked his son’s forehead as he drifted off to sleep. Everything that was important to him was right here in this room. It was imperative to focus on that. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.
