Irene Hannon - A Father for Zach

Zach scrunched up his face. “I hate naps. I’d rather help Nathan.”

Leaning over, Nathan rested his forearms along the top of the chair back, putting him closer to eye-level with Zach. “I’m going to work on the ceiling this afternoon anyway, champ. You can help me again with the wallpaper tomorrow morning. How does that sound?”

Was this a sudden change of plan? Catherine wondered. Designed to make the nap more palatable by reassuring her son he wouldn’t be missing anything? If so, she hoped Nathan’s psychology worked. She wasn’t up to any more battles today.

“Okay, I guess.” Zach sounded more resigned than enthusiastic.

To sweeten the pot, Catherine touched his hand. “I’m going to lie down this afternoon, too, for an hour or two. How about if we nap together?”

His eyes brightened. “In your bed?”

She’d hoped that would do the trick. Sleeping with Mom was a rare treat, and she didn’t bestow it often. The child psychologist had discouraged her from making it a habit, stressing the importance of returning to a normal routine as soon as possible. Besides, there were too many nights when she still woke up crying. Or shaking. Zach didn’t need to witness that.

“Yes. In my bed.”

“Cool!” Zach went back to eating with renewed enthusiasm. “You want to take a nap with us, too, Nathan? It might be a little crowded, but I bet we could all fit.”

Heat surged on Catherine’s neck, and she made a pretense of adjusting the laces on her elevated hiking boot.

“I have work to do, champ.”

Nathan’s husky reply did nothing to quell the unexpected flurry of butterflies Zach’s comment had set off in her stomach. Fortunately he exited to retrieve his lunch, giving her a chance to compose herself. And when he returned, he kept the conversation focused on the remodeling project.

Once lunch was finished and he and Zach had polished off all the remaining brownies, Nathan went back to work with a nod in her direction and a quiet thank-you for the dessert and soda.

Fifteen minutes later, with Zach cuddled up beside her and already drifting off, her own eyelids began to grow heavy. Until a sudden realization drew her back from the brink of sleep.

For the first time in two years, she hadn’t double-checked the locks on every door before lying down.

Snuggling closer to Zach, she told herself she ought to get up and secure the house.

But she didn’t.

Because oddly enough, despite the presence of a stranger on her property, she felt safe.

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