Page 26 of Hiss and Tell
The evening flows with surprising ease. Milo gives me a thorough tour of his dinosaur collection, explaining the difference between carnivores and herbivores with the seriousness of a university professor. Aspen bustles around the kitchen, and I find myself drawn to help despite her protests that I’m a guest.
“You know,” I say as I flip pancakes with more success than my usual cooking attempts, “I’ve been thinking about expanding the library’s community outreach. Maybe partnerships with the preschools, family events, that sort of thing.”
“That sounds amazing,” Aspen says, adding more chocolate chips to the batter. “Milo would love that.”
“All the kids would. And it might help with the board’s concerns about programming value.”
She glances at me with understanding. “Still pressure from Mrs. Randall?”
“Budget season makes everyone nervous, and the meeting at the city council is coming up soon. But after Saturday’s dinner party success, I’m feeling more… confident about taking risks.”
Her smile at that makes my snakes do a little happy dance.
After dinner, Milo eagerly selects one of the library books I brought. “This one! It has a T-Rex AND pterodactyls!”
“Excellent choice,” I tell him solemnly. “Should we read in your room?”
“Yes! I have a special reading corner with all my dinosaurs!”
Milo’s “reading corner” turns out to be a small nest of blankets and pillows surrounded by carefully arranged dinosaur figures. I fold my large frame into the space, trying not to disturb the ecosystem he’s created.
“The big ones go in the back,” he explains, helping rearrange a stegosaurus. “So everyone can see.”
“Very considerate of you,” I say, earning a beaming smile as he settles beside me, Super Steggy clutched close.
Opening the book, I let my voice drop into what Jenny calls my “storyteller cadence.” Milo’s eyes widen as tiny sparkles of light begin to dance above the pages—not a full manifestation, but enough magic to make the story come alive.
“The mighty Tyrannosaurus stepped carefully through the ancient forest…” I begin, and Milo leans closer, completely entranced.
By the third page, tiny spectral dinosaurs hover above the book, acting out the story in miniature. Milo’s gasps of delight make my snakes dance with pride. This is what storytime should be—safe, magical, and filled with wonder.
When I glance up, I catch Aspen watching from the doorway, her expression soft in a way that makes my heart clench. She looks at us as if we’re something precious, something she never expected to find. The sanctuary effect ripples outward, wrapping her in its warmth without conscious thought on my part.
“And then,” I continue, letting the story magic swirl brighter, “the little dinosaur realized that being different wasn’t something to hide—it was his greatest strength.”
Milo nods solemnly. “Like how your snakes make you special, Mr. Sebastian?”
“Exactly like that,” I agree, touched by his simple acceptance.
“And like how Mama’s really good at organizing, even when our apartment looks messy?”
“Especially like that.” I meet Aspen’s eyes over his head, seeing her blink back sudden tears.
After the story ends, Milo helps me carefully pack the other books. “Can I take one to show Daddy at breakfast?”
“Of course. Which one do you think he’d like best?”
As he deliberates with scientific seriousness, Aspen settles beside us in the small space. The three of us fit together surprisingly well, my snakes occasionally brushing against her hair in gestures of affection that she no longer flinches from.
“Mr. Sebastian?” Milo asks as we settle on the pterodactyl book for Derek. “Do you think Daddy will like this book? And will you be proud of me for working so hard on my presentation?”
“I’m already proud of you,” I tell him honestly. “For working so hard, for being so excited to share what you’ve learned, for being such a good friend to the other kids.”
“Even if I get nervous?”
“Especially then. Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared. It means you do important things even when you are scared.”
Aspen’s hand finds mine in the darkness, squeezing gently.
