The Cold

“Dad, the TV isn’t working,” James said from the living room.

“I know, James. The ice storm just cut our power.”

Sandi called the power company while I looked for the candles. The afternoon light was fading fast, and we’d need more than flashlights.

“Why’s the streetlight still on, Dad?” Ian kept pace with me while I dug out the candelabra, unused since our wedding.

“That light’s on a different line.” I glanced at his short hair. “We’ll all need to keep warm. James and Ian, put on your hooded sweatshirts and stocking caps.”

The boys scrambled away, and I turned to Sandi. “What’s the word?”

“The power company knows we’re out, but no projections.”

“Why don’t you get some books? I’ll put the candles on the coffee table and we can have an old-fashioned evening.”

“Do you think we’ll be all right?”

I gave her a quick hug. “Sure. We’ll be fine for at least one day. Get your hooded fleece, too. We’ll take turns reading, and when the boys get sleepy, we’ll all get into our bed.”

“Guys?” I looked each one in the eye. “We’re going to have an adventure.”

The candles filled the room with a soft glow, and Sandi took Ian in her lap while James climbed into mine. I opened a cover. “Chapter One.”

The next morning, both boys ran from their own beds to me in the kitchen, but James spoke first. “Dad, does the TV work?”

“Go see.”

He ran to play his favorite cartoon DVD.

I didn’t tell Sandi how alarmed I’d been or how dangerous the cold can be, but I’d done what dads are supposed to do and kept my family safe. No one spoke of my leadership or guidance, but that’s okay. It’s just part of being a dad.

William R. Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.