19.
Maxwell drowsily opened his eyes and pulled back his expensive covers. His head felt glued to his heavenly soft pillow, but somehow he managed to un-stick it. It was that invisible force that drove him awake every night. Even as tired as he was, he knew he had to get up and check on his children like he always did. It was just an automatic response kind of thing for a parent to do. He could never understand what it was, but he always woke up sometime in the middle of the night to do it. Unless of course he was working at the theatre and came in extremely late, because then he would just do it before he went to bed.
Max was finally able to gather enough strength to lean up on one of his arms to support himself. He groggily lifted his hand as much as he could and placed it on the cold, smooth wood of his bedside table. He had to swish his hand a few times around on the surface, before he located the small box that was his alarm clock. He then took his hand and pushed the clock, turning it towards him so he could read it. The red numbers shined "1:14." Maxwell quickly blinked his eyes, for the bright red light in contrast to the dark room was quite blinding. When he fully opened his eyes again, he saw a slightly vague repeat of the numbers from his clock in his vision. It was like the squares you see after unknowingly looking at the flash of a camera. His sight was pretty blurred now, but he was still able to pull himself out of his bed. Buttoning his navy blue and baby blue-striped linen pajama top all the way, he staggered through the darkness of his room until finally slipping on his slippers that were by his dresser.
He slowly made his way over to his door, remembering its exact location in the darkness. When he pulled the door open though, he forgot to move back from it and he slammed it right into his forehead. He yelped in pain, but made sure that he controlled the volume of it as best he could so that he wouldn't wake anyone from their slumber. Maxwell did his best to navigate through the dim hallway.
He had gotten to bed many hours ago for once. The aspects of the play he was producing seemed to be going along very well at this point and he knew that if he didn't try to get some rest, that this would be the last time he would be able to. In particular, since it was only in the beginning process and casting would be long and tedious work. He had to be careful who he picked this time, because he couldn't have anything going wrong like in his last musical, where a mediocre lead with bad dance steps had to be picked at the very last second. Even though he had already slashed a couple hours, he still felt as if he hadn't been sleeping long.
Soon he came upon a door. It was Margaret's—or Maggie's as Miss Fine liked to call her. He opened it and peaked inside. Everything seemed fine, so he just went in to pull up her covers a bit and kiss her forehead.
After that, he went into Brighton's room and saw that he was shivering and almost completely blanket-less. Maxwell laughed to himself, thinking that his son must have had that ninja-fighting dream again. He picked his sheets off of the floor and made his bed, making sure his covers were firmly tucked in at the end of his bed, shall he have another battle. He lovingly ruffled the boy's hair a bit, knowing that he wasn't very fond of kisses like his sisters.
Last, but certainly not least, was Gracie's room. She looked okay at first, but as he glanced around her neat-as-a-pin room, he saw a bear off in the corner that had fallen out of her arms and off the bed. Max picked up her teddy and placed it near her open arm. He gave a soft kiss on her cheek and then retreated.
A last minute thought turned on a light bulb in his head and decided he would check on Miss Fine also. By the time he found his way through the dark hall, he remembered that he hadn't been all that friendly to her earlier on in the day and he felt the need to at least see how she was doing and ensure that she was sleeping alright. Maxwell slowly shut the door on his way in and crept up to her bed. The faint light from the streetlamps outside left a small trail of light across her sheets. Her face was somewhat illuminated and the nightly glow she possessed was breathtaking. Her curls spilled out across the pillow and gave her the captivating appearance of an angel.
Lured by her beauty, he padded his was across the carpet until he sat down on the empty side of her bed. Fran was a pretty heavy sleeper, so he knew he wouldn't wake her. Impulsively, he reached out and touched her cheek with the back of his hand, her skin feeling soft and delicate to him. Not being able to help himself, he suddenly pulled back the cool sheets and got in beside her. She almost instantly rolled toward him and draped her arm over his chest. He smiled at the innocent gesture that just happened to be very satisfying. It wasn't before long and he didn't count on it, but he ended up drifting off comfortably, sharing Miss Fine's personal resting area.