As afternoon faded into evening, Harriet watched Sam play with his birthday presents. The junior paleontologist's tool set she'd bought him sat unopened and forgotten as he crouched over a pair of plastic dinosaurs.

"Look Mom, this one's head is super thick!" He lightly thumped the herbivore's domed skull with his finger.

Harriet massaged her own aching temples as she checked her phone. Still no texts. "I think that other one's looking at him funny," she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Sam gasped, his brown eyes widening in horror. "Mr. T-Rex, friends aren't for eating!"

He chucked the Pachycephalosaurus at the thoroughly unamused T-Rex. Harriet snapped a picture as the dinosaurs collided with a hollow bonk. There, she thought as she sent Frank the picture, maybe this would guilt trip him into dragging his sorry butt home.

"This dinosaur's the best!" Sam said as he picked up the Pachycephalosaurus and made it do a victory dance, its clawed feet awkwardly thumping the carpet. "Isn't that right Mr....?" Sam squinted at the label still hanging around the dino's neck like a dog tag.

"Dad," Harriet said with a smirk. "The resemblance is uncanny, especially with that thick head!"

Sam giggled. "Nah, he looks like a wooly mammoth." He stifled a yawn. "Or a wooly rhino. Maybe a wooly bear."

"Wooly bears aren't a thing, sweetie." She scooped him up in her arms with a grunt. There was no doubt about it; he was definitely growing both older and heavier. "Speaking of bears, it's about time for you to hibernate."

"But I'm not tired," he said with a yawn. His new favorite toy dangled loosely from his hand as she hauled them off to bed.

"Even dinosaurs need to sleep. Especially since..." She paused for dramatic effect.

"What?" Sam's eyes darted around his room as if the Velociraptors in the posters surrounding his bed were plotting to ambush him in the night. Their cold, hungry eyes stared at the herbivore clutched tightly to his chest.

"Especially since the Ticklesaurus loves to eat little dinos that won't go to bed!"

Sam laughed so hard he nearly fell out from under the covers as her fingers skittered across his stomach. "Oh no, she's got me!"

"You're so cute I could eat you up," she said as she planted a kiss on his forehead. "Take good care of your new buddy, okay? Keep him nice and cozy."

Sam snuggled under the covers with his dino until only their heads were peeking out. "I will."

Harriet left Sam to drift off with his dino dad, illuminated only by the amber glow of his nightlight.

Sam's soft snores were the only sound in the house until Frank's Toyota rumbled up the driveway. Harriet met him at the door with her hands on her hips. "Where have you been?" she asked.

"I had to finish ordering props for a new client's commercial," Frank said as he popped a kink out of his back. "You know how it is. You think you're about to head home for the day, but then Ryan walks in crying about how he has to get ready for his weekend with his kid and..." Frank shrank under Harriet's glare. He ran a hand through his thick, bushy Afro. "Shit, that's the you-done-fucked-up look."

"Yup. Checked your phone lately?"

"I had my hands full today, babe. Let's see what we've got going on here." His loose, easy smile dropped. "Oh."

"Oh? That's all you've got to say for yourself?" Harriet pinched the bridge of her nose. "He missed you, Frank."

He sighed. "At least he liked the toys, I think. That or that is one seriously offended little pachy-whatever-asaurus."

She let herself smile a little. "He did. And do you know what he called that one?"

"What?"

"Dad."

Frank brought a hand to his heart. "Harriet, you'd better call a doctor. I think the guilt's gonna kill me. Or the cuteness." He flashed her that smile, the one so warm it could end an ice age. "He gets that dimple from you."

He wasn't getting out of this that easily. "You'd better apologize to him, you hear? And no more of this coming home when it's dark o'clock."

"I'll try," he said softly. "Now, don't tell me I totally missed everything?"

She feigned ignorance. "What do you mean?"

"The cake, babe. Is there any left for me?"

"Only because I saved you a slice," she said. She led him into the kitchen with a swagger in her step. "It was quite a hit."

Frank made sure to take a moment to admire the dark chocolate slice soaked through with raspberry sauce. "Now that's what I call a lava cake," he said. "And here I thought you'd decided to try to make that molten chocolate thing."

"I thought so too, but Carol came over with one of her fancy pants cake molds. The raspberry sauce was her idea, too. I was going to go with strawberry icing."

"Well," Frank said as he took a bite of the cake, "she may have helped, but I bet you're the reason this tastes so freaking amazing. I'll have to remember that when my birthday rolls around."

"Hey, if that means more delicious cake, I can't complain. Speaking of which, Carol invited me to come bake with her."

"Next you'll be telling me Paul McCartney is coming over to sing a duet with you."

"It's true! I need a favor though." Harriet steepled her fingers together. "I'll need you to keep Sam busy."

"No worries. Does this weekend sound okay? I can take him to the museum and get him a little souvenir to make up for missin' the party."

"That would be great." She flashed him a teasing smile as he licked the last of the crumbs off his plate. "Who knows, maybe you'll even memorize a few of their names. Hundredth time's the charm."

"It's not my fault they give them such fancy names. Why can't they shorten them all like with T-Rex?"

"Probably because calling anything a V-Raptor is bound to make immature people die laughing."

Frank chuckled. "Can't argue with that." He yawned, teeth still red with raspberry sauce. "I'd better get to bed."

"You just got home. Can't you stay up a little longer?" Harriet pleaded. "I'll even watch that rigged survival show."

"Babe, they found fish in the desert one time. Let them live it down." He wrapped her in a tight hug and planted a kiss on her cheek. "I wish I could stay up, but Ryan wants me to come early tomorrow to help him refine a pitch for a client."

Harriet pulled back with a sigh. "Fine, but please promise me you won't let him keep taking advantage of you. You're his friend, not his pack mule." Divorce or no divorce, Ryan had no right to keep shoving so much stuff onto Frank.

Frank smiled weakly. "He needs all the help he can get right now, babe. Now if you'll excuse me, my head had better hit that pillow before I start dreaming about Ryan and his bacon alarm clock."

"That's even worse than the pet pajamas he had you helping with."

"Oh Lord almighty, now you've put that jingle back in my head!"

"The perfect PJ's for your pet," she sang softly in the same horribly off-key pitch as the commercial.

"The cutest sleep you'll ever get." He groaned. "It's not even right. I've never seen a more miserable-looking dog in my life!"

They went to bed chuckling at the memory of the poor pug the company had squeezed into a onesie. The little guy had let everyone know exactly what he thought of that atrocious outfit as soon as it was off him. Frank had tied its shredded pink remains around the suitcase he always used on business trips.

As Frank drifted off, Harriet cuddled closer to him. Even with his heart beating right against her ear, she still felt horribly alone.