Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
“Please go away...”
“Not happening.”
“I don’t want you seeing me like this,” she groaned—her words echoing in the commode.
“Too late for that.” I used my free hand to grab a clean washcloth and ran it under cold water. “I would’ve come sooner if I’d known you were sick.”
“Oh, God.” Her breathing became ragged, and it looked like she was on death’s door as I placed the cold cloth against her forehead. “This is awful.”
“I know. Just give it a minute and see if it passes.”
“I can’t be sick.”
“Clearly, you can.”
“No... That’s not what I meant,” she groaned. “My job is about to start. I don’t have a tree yet, and all my decorations are piled up in the garage. I just don’t have time for this.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Now, stop your whining and just breathe for a bit.”
She let out a defeated sigh as she continued to hug the toilet. We stayed there a good while longer, and when the nausea seemed to pass, I asked her, “You think you could make it to the sofa?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
I helped her to her feet, and after she’d rinsed her mouth out, I led her down the hall to the living room. Once she was settled on the sofa, I pulled a another blanket over her. “Hold tight. I’m gonna go grab a few things.”
“It’s okay. I can call Mom and...”
“I’m already here. I’ve got it covered. Just give me a minute.”
To my surprise, she didn’t argue. Hell, she didn’t have the energy to. All she could do was just lay there and try not to pass out. I went into the kitchen and grabbed all the things she’d used to help Ava, then carried them to her in the living room. When I placed the clean bowl on the coffee table, she cracked open one eye and muttered, “You need to go.”
“You can stop with that. I’m not going anywhere.” I placed the ginger ale and Pepto on the coffee table as I scolded, “You should’ve let someone know you were sick.”
“I didn’t want to be a bother.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You need me, then call. End of discussion.”
“Hm-hmm.”
“That’s more like it. Now, get some rest. I’m gonna go check on Ava.”
“Wait.” She eased up on the sofa as she fussed, “No, I can—”
“Beck,” I cut her off, my voice firm. “You’re not winning this one.”
For a second, I thought she’d argue, but then she eased back on her pillow and let out a tired sigh. “Okay. But if she asks for me—”
“I’ll let you know,” I said, softening my tone. “Now get some sleep.”
I left the living room and went to find Ava. When I got to the end of the hall, I found her in her room, sitting on the floor. She looked up at me with narrowed eyes and asked, “Where’s my momma?”
“She’s not feeling good and went to lie down for a bit.”
“Oh.”
“I’m just checking to make sure you’re good.” She just sat there looking at me like I had three heads, so I asked, “Can I get you something?”
“I’m hungry.”
“Okay. I can scrounge you up something to eat. How about some eggs or some toast?”
Her nose crinkled with disapproval as she shook her head no.
“How about some cereal?”
Another shake of the head.
“A grilled cheese?”
With that, her eyes lit up, and she nodded with excitement.
“Okay. A grilled cheese it is.” I started to back out of the room but stopped when I thought back to how sick her mother had just been. “Are you sure you feel up for that with your tummy and all?”
“Hm-hmm. I want ‘em.”
“Okay, you got it.”
Ava followed me into the kitchen and climbed up on one of the kitchen stools. Her tiny legs swung back and forth as she watched me walk over and start searching through the cabinets. I sounded like a bull in a china shop as I fumbled through the pots and pans. I finally found the skillet and placed it on the stove before going over to the fridge for the cheese and butter.
I was about to turn on the stove when I realized I’d forgotten the bread. I stepped over to the pantry and grabbed a loaf from the second shelf before returning to the stove. I was about to get started when Ava muttered, “That’s not right.”
“What?”
She pointed to the loaf of bread and said, “That’s not it.”
“What do you mean?” I picked it up and looked at it. “Looks like bread to me.”
“It has seeds.”
“Seeds?” I had no idea what she was talking about, so I argued, “Kid, bread is bread.”
“No.” She shook her head like she was already over my incompetence. “In the fridge.”
“The fridge? Why would bread be in the—never mind.” I opened the door, and sure enough, there it was. I was starting to regret volunteering for this mission as I grumbled, “All right, we’re back on track.”