Comfort And Joy. Amy Frazier

swore, and then staggered down the hall toward what had once been his and Daniel’s room. Only to find the light already on and Walter kneeling by the edge of Jared’s bed.

      “He had a nightmare, Grampa,” Justin mumbled sleepily from the adjacent bed.

      “I know, son,” Walter replied, his back to Gabriel.

      As his father drew Jared close, Gabriel remained in the shadows of the doorway, prepared to intervene if necessary. Walter had seldom dispensed anything other than cold comfort to his own sons.

      “Are you awake now?” Walter asked, his voice gruff but at the same time gentle. “Is that nightmare gone?”

      Jared snuffled.

      “Do you know where you are?”

      “At your house,” Justin replied for his brother.

      “Your house, too. So you know what that means. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you here. Either one of you. I won’t let it. So those old nightmares are just gonna hafta find somewhere else to hang out. You understand?”

      “Yessir,” Justin said, yawning, as Jared nodded, his eyelids already at half-mast.

      “Now close your eyes. I’m gonna stay right here until I hear you snoring.”

      Justin giggled sleepily. “Grampa, we don’t snore.”

      “You better not. ’Cause I need my beauty rest in the next room. And if you go back to sleep real quick, I’ll let you have Cocoa Puffs for breakfast.”

      “Daddy doesn’t like Cocoa Puffs.”

      “He won’t be the one eating them.”

      Walter remained kneeling between the beds. Only when both twins were fast asleep again did he stand and turn. The look on his face said he didn’t know Gabriel had been behind him. Didn’t appreciate the audience. Wordlessly, his stiff demeanor back in place, he brushed by his own son, switched off the light and then made his way downstairs. Gabriel followed.

      In the kitchen, Walter lit a burner, got out a saucepan, honey, lemon juice and whiskey. “You want a nightcap?”

      “No, thanks.” Gabriel needed a clear head tomorrow.

      “Suit yourself.” Walter added a splash of water to the saucepan, then proceeded to make himself a hot toddy. “How often does Jared get nightmares?” he asked. Belligerently. As if Gabriel might somehow be to blame.

      “Once a week. Sometimes more.” This was the first one since the return to Hennings.

      Stirring the ingredients in the saucepan over the flame, Walter didn’t reply.

      “You don’t have to get up with him. When it happens again, I’ll take care of it.”

      Walter slit his eyes. “You said when it happens again. Don’t you mean if?”

      “After twenty-seven months, I’m just being realistic.”

      “The boys are home now. You might see a difference. Don’t be so negative.”

      “I’m going to turn in,” Gabriel said, giving up on the idea of a real conversation, and not wanting to discuss the differences returning to Walter’s house might make. “I just wanted to say…thanks. For being there this time. For Jared.”