Page 35 of The Fire Captain's Unexpected Baby
“I’m here to pick up Noah Reed,” I say confidently. Years of working in high-pressure situations have done little to prepare me for this.
The brunette teacher perks up at Noah’s name and smiles at me, joy breaking through her exhaustion. “We haven’t met yet,” she says and extends a hand for me to shake. “I’m Ms. Clarissa.”
I shake her hand and introduce myself. She never asks how I know Paige and Noah. In a town as small as Crown Hill, she must assume I have permission to pick him up. That I have some authority here.
Clarissa brings Noah to me, and the toothy smile on his face melts my heart. He will get whatever he wants for the next twohours while we wait for his mom to get off her shift at the hospital; that much is given.
“I hope we’ll see you next week,” Clarissa says as we leave.
“Next week?”
“The Father’s Day celebration,” she clarifies. “I sent home a flyer about it a few days ago. I noticed that it was still in his take-home folder. We’re putting on a special program for dads to get involved.”
“Oh, I’m not?—”
“It’s called ‘Fathers Nurture Too.’ We’re asking all the dads to dress up as vegetables and sing some of our prepared songs to the kids.” She rolls her eyes at the last part. “Not my idea, but it’s supposed to help encourage them to have healthy eating habits.”
“And you want me to sing to Noah,” I conclude, letting the words sink in.
“He deserves to have his dad here,” she says.
I must not be the only one who’s new to Crown Hill. Clarissa clearly has no idea that Noah’s father is out of the picture. Still, I can’t picture letting Noah be the only kid here without a dad.
I know firsthand what that feels like.
Noah might only be two, but I would do whatever I could to keep any child from feeling the sting of loss. One day, he might remember. Might wonder why no one stepped up to fill that role for him.
“I’ll be there,” I promise.
* * *
Paige
The house is suspiciously quiet when I walk through the front door after my shift. I push the oak door shut behind me softly, not sure what I might interrupt. The muffled click doesn’t travel past the foyer.
After slipping off my shoes, I pad into the living room, where I assume I’ll find Aaron and Noah.
And I do. Lying on the couch, asleep with the puppies at their feet.
Aaron stretches out over the couch, larger than life, as usual. His arm wraps around the back cushions, and his legs extend halfway across the tiny room.
He commands an entire room, even asleep. Even when he’s stretched out on the sofa with a two-year-old.
Noah is nestled into his side, one arm wrapped around Aaron’s midsection and the other wrapped around the fluffy bunny that he stole from Summer long ago.
They look like a perfect pair. Like they were destined to be in this position together, vulnerable and resting.
I’ve seen Noah sleep with my friends and family before, but the scene in my living room is different. Of course, he took contact naps on Summer as a baby and let Levi rock him to sleep on long newborn nights. If that weren’t enough, even Zachary had snuggled him to sleep.
Aaron has no reason to take care of Noah, though.
I asked him to pick my son up from daycare as a last resort, not because I thought he would enjoy it. I knew he would take this in stride, a serious responsibility. An occasion that he would rise to.
Now, a new facet emerges from the picture I’ve seen. Aaronlikesspending time with Noah. He’s relaxed in this environment. So much so that he could let himself unwind alongside my toddler.
Something loosens in my heart at the sight. Because it isn’t just the way Aaron protectively tucked Noah into his side.
Upon second glance, the details I missed start to emerge. They clearly had fun together before they fell asleep.
