To the Moon and Back

by N.R. Walker

Instead of yelling and screaming, he’d sing a song to Benson, give extra-long cuddles, or read books to him. Anything to distract himself, to benefit Benson, but also to make himself a better dad. To make up for the fact that he had to be twice as good now. While he’d tried to do it all, Gideon didn’t blame himself for not being a super-dad, and he certainly didn’t blame Benson. Babies were innocent and, after all, a lot of work. He blamed Drew, one hundred percent. “To the moon and back,” Toby said, reading the decal above Benson’s crib. Gideon gave Benson another kiss on the cheek. “I tell him that every time I put him to bed,” Gideon said. “And turn on this light,” he said, pressing the switch on the small box on the chest of drawers. The room went dark, with purple and blues swirling on the ceiling and walls, turning the whole room into a galaxy. “I play this every night when I put him to bed. I tell him stories and we look at the stars.” Toby’s smile was warm and kind, and he gave Benson a gentle tweak on the arm. “Daddy’s little astronaut.” Gideon snorted out a laugh. “Well, I guess that’s better than chicken nugget.” Toby grinned. “He can be both. A cheeky chicky nuggy astronaut.” Gideon stared at him. Oh sweet heavens, it was getting worse.