The panic I felt forged with the loving desire to protect my little girl. Now I loved Jeanie, really I did, and although she annoyed the heck out of me most times, I would have laid my life down for her without hesitation. But the love I felt for Sammy went way beyond the adoration my heart held for Jeanie, and Sammy was more than just daddy’s little girl—she was the light of my life, the source of my will, and the reason I continued muddling through a marriage with more downs than ups and grunting through a dead-end job.
Perhaps that explained what happened next—I don’t know. All I know is some force exorcised the beasts from my dream, sent them back through the barrier they had chewed through, and the torn gash sealed up. Jeanie always said that God was love and perhaps that was true. If so, then the love I felt for Sammy somehow flowed through me, down into my lowest pits and chased the dark things away.
I heard the distant screams and howls of the beasts, and other frustrated things receding from my dark dreams, but reality solidified and my heartfelt love for Sammy cemented me into the moment.
I stepped over Jeanie, opened Sammy’s door and knelt beside my little girl. She held a teddy bear to her chest, and I felt her tear soaked face as I hugged her tight.
“Tom?” Jeanie’s voice crept into our embrace.
I turned and held my hand out when Jeanie opened her eyes. She flinched when she saw my hand, but this time it wasn’t deformed. She hesitated before taking it, but when she did I pulled her from the doorway of my bedroom into the cattycornered entrance of Sammy’s bedroom.
“I must have had a bad dream,” Jeanie said. She shook her head as I pulled her into our family hug. “It seemed so real.”
“We all had a bad dream,” I said.
“What do you do when you have bad dreams, Daddy?” Sammy asked innocently.
“I think of you, sweetie,” I said. “You take care of all my bad dreams.”
She smiled and kissed my cheek, and she hugged Jeanie before shuffling back to bed, blinking her eyes to stay awake. We heard her snoring before she slipped beneath her covers.
“Tom?” Jeanie said. “It wasn’t all a dream, was it?”
“No,” I said. “Mostly it was a nightmare.”
She seemed satisfied with my answer. I felt the pulse in her chest beating against mine, the warmth of her breath on my face. We still knelt on our knees. I looked at Jeanie’s face, aglow with the yellow hue of a Winnie-the-Pooh nightlight. She looked beautiful and I pulled her close until her body pressed against mine.
She shuddered as we kissed. We needed each other desperately, and although we’d grown apart over the years, our kissing rekindled memories and memories rekindled passion. When I pulled away our lingering kisses led to our bedroom.
When I slid beneath the covers I noticed they weren’t bloody. When I kissed Jeanie I found peace. And after we made love, I slipped into the most restful sleep I’d had in years.
And the walls of my dreams held, strengthened by my family’s bonds. Outside those walls I knew the beasts and other dark things prowled, but within those walls I delighted in the sunshine of my daughter’s smile and the warm companionship of my wife’s trust.
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