Sleeping on aunt's legs

After tea, Julia set her cup down carefully on the table and looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s three-thirty. It’s time for the boys’ afternoon nap.” Her voice was like the soft command of a kind aunt, not harsh, just reassuring.

Smith was still sitting on Julia’s lap, his head on her chest, his eyes half-open. Julia gently ran her thumb through the hair in front of Smith’s forehead. “You know what, don’t you? It’s time for your afternoon nap.”

Juliet returned from the kitchen, the dishcloth slung over her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re taking care of those duties?”

Julia smiled. Then she looked at Smith. “Get up for a moment, dear. Let’s go to the bigger sofa.”

Smith rose reluctantly, but Julia took his hand and led him to the sofa next to the fireplace. She sat up first, stretched her legs out, and placed a large velvet pillow under her head. Then with both hands she lifted Smith like a light doll—softly and silently—and laid him across her lap. Smith’s head was on Julia’s right thigh, his body stretched out on the couch, his legs tucked under little Juliet’s wool blanket.

Julia pulled the blanket up to Smith’s chin. “Now close your eyes.” She placed a finger on Smith’s eyelids, pressing gently. “Shhh… just listen to the sound of the fireplace.”

Smith took a deep breath. The smell of Julia’s sweatpants—a little warm, a little vanilla—mingled with the smell of burnt wood. Julia put her hand under Smith’s head, ran her fingers through his hair, and began to stroke it gently, like combing a child’s hair.

Juliet sat on the sofa opposite, tucked her legs under her, and looked. “You really know, don’t you?”

Julia just smiled, her eyes on Smith. Smith’s breathing was regular, his eyelids closed, his lips slightly parted. “Sleep. Look how relaxed he is,” Julia said in a very low voice.

Juliet laughed, softly. “Like a tired child.”

Julia nodded. “Our baby.” Then she placed her hand on Smith’s chest, just to feel the pulse of peace. “Half an hour, no more. Then we’ll wake him with fresh tea.”

The fireplace was crackling. The Montana autumn wind howled outside the window, but inside, at Julia’s feet, Smith was deep in a peaceful afternoon sleep—complete care, no words, just warmth and caress.