She helped him to bed, which was an interesting feat in itself considering their size difference. Still, she managed to half guide, half carry him into his room, and get him up onto his bed with only minor difficulties. She convinced him to drink a glass of water, and then to get under his blankets.
And when she was sure that he was comfortable and not likely to get back out of bed, she turned to leave and he cried out, “No, no, don’t leave.”
She turned back to him with the long suffering smile of a woman who had put many a small child (and many a drunk) to a reluctant bed time before. “Why do you want me to stay? You’re going to fall asleep.”
“Because I want to talk until I fall asleep and I don’t want to talk to no one because then I sound crazy.”
“Or you’ll just sound drunk. Which you are. So, don’t worry about it.”
“No, no, no. Please stay. I promise I won’t try anything, I just want to talk to you. Please.” He pulled out his most impressive puppy dog eyes–and she sighed.
“Okay. Okay. You have an hour to talk to me and fall asleep, and after that, you’re just going to have to make do with your imaginary friends, Deal?”
“Deal!” He grinned and patted the edge of the bed insistently She told him to budge up, and sat down, resting her back against the headboard.
He wasn’t kidding when he said that he wanted to talk until he fell asleep. He didn’t mean that he wanted to have a conversation, he meant that he wanted to motor mouth until he slipped into unconsciousness, which he did–as far as she knew. Because listening to him discuss every topic from Television to his dog to advances in technology and his favorite movie as a kid, she started to get comfortable. And even drunk he had a lovely voice. So it wasn’t long at all until she was the one asleep in the soft warm, bed. He leaned in to give her a quick kiss on the head, and then fell asleep himself, his sober sitter curled into his side.