As first-time parents, sleep deprived Matt and Margot were over protective, checking on Lizzy numerous times throughout the night. Even though they had a baby monitor and guardian Golden Retriever, Sherman, they wanted Lizzy to sleep in their bedroom. Each night after rocking Lizzy to sleep, Margot tucked her into her portable crib like a caterpillar in its cocoon.

Margot and Matt patted Sherman on the head, “Good boy, time for bed.”

They mustered enough energy to kiss each other good night. As soon as Matt’s head touched the pillow, he was sound asleep, breathing heavily. Margot glared at Matt and clenched her teeth. Margot was exhausted. She struggled to get comfortable, tossing from side to side until she drifted off. Margot was a light sleeper, so when Sherman scratched the carpet under Lizzy’s crib, she awoke sighing heavily.

“Sherman, stop that. Go back to sleep.” She wondered if he was dreaming about burying a bone. She rolled over pulling the blanket up to her neck.

Minutes later Sherman jumped on their bed and crawled between Margot and Matt.

“Sherman, get off the bed, now!” ordered Matt. His hand smacked the covered mattress.

“Shhhhh, Matt, you’ll wake up Lizzy.”

Sherman refused to move. He quivered, digging deeper between them in the bed.

“What in the world has gotten into you?” inquired Matt.

Margot stroked Sherman’s back. “Matt, he’s trembling.” Margot twisted her hair around her right index finger.

“No, he just wants to sleep in our bed. He’s too big for that.” Sherman weighed seventy-one pounds at his last vet visit.

“Matt, do you feel that?” Margot shivered then crossed her arms over her chest snuggly.

“You mean Sherman pushing me off our bed?”

“No, that rush of chilled air,” shuddered Margot. The hair on her arms rose, and she felt goose bumps.   

“The air conditioning probably came on,” rationalized Matt.

Then the baby monitor went off, and they heard Lizzy cooing and laughing.

“Matt, now Lizzy’s awake.” Margot rubbed the back of her neck.

When Margot tip toed over and peeked in her crib, she felt a presence lingering near her, yet she didn’t see or hear anything unusual. Lizzy was sound asleep, smiling. Sherman had buried himself under the bed pillows. Then the temperature monitor light began blinking, indicating a drastic change.

“Matt, what’s going on? Don’t you feel that?”

“It’s just the air conditioning,” he reiterated, “The monitor may be too close to the vent.”

“What’s that smell?” Her nose wrinkled.

“Does it smell like rotten eggs, perhaps a dirty diaper or a dog’s fart?” Matt pinched his nose.

“Matt, no, it’s a sweet eucalyptus scent. How can you not smell that?” Margot was perplexed.

“All I smell is a dog that could use a bath. I don’t smell anything unusual, but then your sense of smell has always been better than mine.”

Margot held her breath and stood statue-like, “Someone’s here. I feel and smell a presence.”

“There’s no one here.  Go back to bed.” Matt cleared his throat.

“I smell the sweet aroma of cigars. Didn’t your uncle Charles smoke cigars? I think he’s come to see Lizzy. I always enjoyed Uncle Charles’s wonderful sense of humor.”

“Do you hear yourself? Uncle Charles has been dead for three years. You’re tired and your imagination is running wild. Sherman, come on.” Matt tugged on Sherman’s collar and then shuffled out of their bedroom.

“I’ll be right downstairs on the couch if you need me. I’ve got to get some sleep.”

“You’re going to leave me here by myself?” She threw her arms in the air.

“Margot, you and Lizzy will be fine. Go back to bed.” He gazed down, shook his head, and headed down the stairs.

“I suppose I am overreacting,” she muttered, “I’m just so tired.” She rubbed her forehead and temples. She reset the monitors and made sure Lizzy was sleeping comfortably. Margot felt a coolness encompass her, but she did not feel threatened. She crawled back into bed, tugged on the blanket, hugged her pillow, and mumbled, “Isn’t she beautiful Uncle Charles?”