Part 48

The sweet song of chickadees dipped into Charlotte's unconscious and brought her back to her pink paradise. Wrapped up in her grandmother's quilt, she hadn't slept so long or so deeply for months. Maybe this chair isn't such a bad place after all. She didn't want to move. The feel of the warm upholstery cushioning her was a comfort.

"Mommy." It was Lovie. She had padded into the family room still in her purple plush footie pajamas. "Did you fall asleep in your chair?"

"Yes," giggled Charlotte.

"Daddy slept all sick."

Charlotte's jaw flew open. "Where is he?"

"At the bottom of the stairs."

Dear God, I hope he's all right. Had he fallen? Struggling to get out from under the quilt, she threw the covers off onto the floor and practically catapulted herself out of the chair. "Sam, Sam are you okay?"

Her passed out husband was sprawled out over the three bottom steps, head down, mouth just inches from a dried pool of vomit. When she saw him, it was all she could do not to get sick herself.

"See Mommy," said Lovie, "maybe it's a stomach virus."

Despite what she was facing Charlotte smiled at her daughter's innocence. "Yes, maybe it is a stomach virus." Then reaching over she gently touched his shoulder and shook him.

"Are you okay?"

Blurry-eyed and hung over, Sam answered, "I've been better."

(16670)