Leslie shifted her so the contents of her stomach went into the toilet, then flushed it down. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Oh, my God,” Erica said again in almost a whimper.
“It’s okay.” Leslie knew the words would have no effect, but she didn’t know what else to say.
Erica folded her arms across the toilet seat and buried her head in them. “Oh, my God.”
There was no way to console her. Not now. Not when she was half naked and bent over the toilet. Maybe refocusing the conversation would help. “What do you need me to do?” Leslie asked, taking charge.
It seemed to work. Erica lifted her head slightly. “Siena,” she said weakly. “Where’s Siena?”
“She’s out back with Gus. She’s fine.”
“She needs breakfast.” Erica upchucked again, as though the mere thought of food was too much. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gulped for air. “I texted Becky. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”
Leslie moved to the sink and soaked a hand towel in cool water, then squeezed it out. “I’ll get her fed and ready to go.” She dabbed Erica’s forehead, then released the towel into her grasping hand. “Is there anything you need while…”
Erica wiped her lips. “There’s a bucket under…” She pointed behind her at the counter. “I think I might—”
“Got it.” Leslie leapt to retrieve it and set it beside Erica.
“Thank you,” Erica said feebly.
Leslie stood in the bathroom awkwardly, not wanting to leave her alone but knowing it would be best. Besides, Siena needed to be ready when Becky came. “Okay,” she said finally, more to herself than Erica.
Outside once more, she sat beside Siena with a plan in place. “All right. As you know, your mom’s sick, so we’re going to have to help her out.”
Siena turned to her expectantly.
Leslie studied her. She didn’t know what Siena could or couldn’t do on her own, what might cause her to melt down, so the best approach would be simply to ask. Right? “Can you get dressed by yourself?”
Siena brightened. “Yes.”
“Great!” Leslie said. Good start. “So you go get dressed, and I’ll make you some breakfast. Is there anything you want in particular?”
“Chocolate brownies,” Siena said eagerly.
Leslie laughed. Should’ve seen that coming. “Nice try. Let me ask a different question. Is there anything you absolutely don’t like for breakfast?”
“Eggs,” Siena said, scrunching her nose. “There’s pancake batter in the refrigerator. Do you know how to make pancakes?”
“I do.” Of course Erica would have an efficient morning routine.
“I want pancakes,” Siena said.
“You got it. I’ll make them while you get dressed.” Leslie rose and held her hand out to Siena. “Come right back when you’re finished. Okay?”
Siena nodded and led the way into the house.
As Leslie flipped the last pancake onto a plate, she heard a sound behind her. “All dressed?” she asked without a glance.
“Yes,” Siena said, happiness in her voice. “I wore all my favorite things.”
Leslie turned. The sight stopped her in her tracks.
Siena wore purple camouflage shorts, a wrinkled, bright red shirt with big blue and yellow flowers, Winnie the Pooh socks, and lime green sneakers. “Look, my shoes have lights.” She stomped her foot, then grinned at Leslie after a red flash lit up the side.
“I see that. Those are cool shoes,” Leslie said, stalling for something else to say. The outfit was nothing like the color-coordinated, well-kempt clothing she’d seen Siena in before, even on the weekend. Clearly, she wasn’t usually in charge of dressing herself. Oh well. Desperate times and all… “You look beautiful.”
Siena beamed.
“Your breakfast is ready,” Leslie said, setting the plate on the table beside the butter, blueberries, and syrup she’d found in her search of the fridge and cupboards. Erica’s cabinets were the most organized she’d ever seen.
The doorbell rang.
Ah, Becky. If the outfit was unacceptable, she’d know how to deal with it. She knew Erica and Siena far better. When Leslie opened the front door, though, she found a man with bags under his eyes, stubble covering his cheeks, and his reddish hair looking as though it’d never met a comb.
They blinked at one another.
“May I help you?” Leslie asked.
“Who are you?” the man asked.
“My name’s Leslie. I live next door.”
“Oh,” he said, a spark of recognition in his tired eyes. “I’ve heard of you. I’m Jack. My wife Becky and I are friends of Erica’s.”
“Oh. Yes,” Leslie said. “I was expecting Becky. You threw me.” She stepped back to let him, and the little girl she’d just noticed hiding behind his leg, inside.
“Becky’s at home, puking her guts out, just like Erica, I assume.” Jack lifted an eyebrow.
Leslie nodded.
“We had a support group dinner last night. Seems everyone who ate the chicken is in the same boat this morning.” He looked around the living room. “I’ve always liked this room,” he said, as though there was nothing out of the ordinary about the two of them being there together.
Leslie followed suit and took in her surroundings, realizing she’d never been in that part of Erica’s house. She always came in the back. She remembered what Siena had said about it being for people who don’t belong there and her grandma with wrinkles. She almost laughed. She wondered whose mother that grandma was.
“Is Siena ready?” Jack asked, returning to the problem at hand. “Do you need help with anything?”
“She’s eating breakfast,” Leslie said, leading the way toward the kitchen. “And I’m not sure about what she’s wearing.”
“Hey, on a day like today, if she’s wearing anything at all, it’s good,” Jack said. “Rosi’s already had two meltdowns because things aren’t going the way they usually do.”
Leslie glanced at the little girl. She seemed perfectly fine now.
“Routine’s important with a lot of kids on the spectrum.” Jack smiled at Siena as he stopped in the kitchen doorway. “Hey, kiddo. Ready to go to school with me and Rosi?”
“School doesn’t start till next week,” Siena said, her focus on her plate. “And my mom takes me.”
Leslie moved to her and squatted beside her chair. “Your mom’s sick, remember? She’s upstairs…you know…” She watched Siena carefully for any signs that she was upset. The problem was, she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. “So do you want to ride with Jack and Rosi? Just for today?”
“No, thank you.” Siena took a bite.
Leslie shifted and tried again. “Siena, your mom called Jack to help her this morning. Remember, we talked about your mom needing help because she isn’t feeling well? This is how we can help her.”
Siena stiffened, and her eyes widened slightly. “I don’t want to go with Rosi. I don’t like Rosi.” She began to rock. “My mom takes me.”
Gus jumped up from the other side of the chair where he’d been watching and landed his front paws on her leg, like he’d done Sunday evening.
Leslie waited for Jack to step in, but he didn’t. She remembered Erica’s approach. “It’s okay,” she said softly, “but I think you have to go to school…or…to your day program, I mean.”
“No. No, no.” She rocked faster. “My mom takes me.” Her voice rose.
“All right.” Leslie stroked her arm to calm her. “It’s all right.”
Siena pulled away and shrieked.
Leslie jerked back, her hands in the air. “I’m sorry. I won’t touch you.”
Siena froze, still in the chair, and stared down at Gus.
But now what? Leslie thought fast. Winnie the Pooh. The characters. “Do you remember Winnie the Pooh and Piglet? And Eeyore and Tigger?”
Gus whined and licked Siena’s thigh.
Siena
began to rock again, but she picked up the chant. “Winnie the Pooh. Piglet. Eeyore…”
Leslie moved back to Jack and maneuvered them into the dining room. “Is it a big deal if she misses a day at her program?”
Jack shrugged. “Not to me. She seems better with that diversion from routine than with anyone but Erica taking her there. But is Erica doing well enough to watch her? If she’s anything close to as sick as Becky, she’s not going to be handling anything.”
“No. From what I saw, she’s out of commission for the day, at least.” Leslie thought about her furniture being delivered, all the setup and unpacking she needed to do, and the upcoming launch of the new Trinfinite Photography website, one of her biggest clients. She sighed, then decided. “Siena can stay with me. We’ll just need to be back and forth between the two houses. I can make sure Erica’s doing okay, too.”
“Great,” Jack said. “I owe you one. Becky told me to keep an eye on them in addition to getting Rosi and the boys where they needed to be. Plus, like I said, Becky’s feeling pretty lousy herself. We try to keep tabs on Erica, since she’s on her own with Siena, but today’s a mess.”
“Don’t worry about anything here.” Leslie patted him on the shoulder as they walked through the house to the front door. “And tell Becky this family’s fine. I mean, Erica and Siena…That family,” she said, catching her wording.
Jack seemed oblivious as he herded Rosi out. “If you need anything, let me know.”
They quickly exchanged numbers.
She watched him buckle Rosi into the back seat of his car, then returned to find Siena.
She was in the backyard again, sitting where Leslie had found her earlier, still repeating the characters of the Hundred Acre Wood to herself. She was calmer, though.
Leslie sat beside her again and waited.
“Are they gone?” Siena asked after a few minutes.
“Yes. You’re going to stay with me and Gus for the day. Is that okay?” Leslie held her breath, hoping the answer was yes. She didn’t have a clue what to do if it wasn’t. That was the only option she could see at the moment.
“Yes,” Siena said. She ran her hand down Gus’s back and pulled him close.
Leslie felt a wave of relief. “I’m going to need your help, though.”
“With what?”
“There’s a lot going on today,” Leslie said, glad to see more curiosity in Siena’s expression than anxiety. She thought of what Erica had said the night of the Wendy’s incident, that Siena had managed to handle herself. She’d done well today, too—and Leslie was even a little proud of herself. “My furniture is coming between noon and two, and—”
Siena gasped. “The blue couch?”
Leslie laughed. “Yes, and a lot of other stuff. So we have to tell the delivery people where to put everything. Then we have to unpack the things I brought with me and put them all away. Plus, we need to take care of your mom and make lunch and dinner. Can you help me with all that?”
Siena nodded with enthusiasm.
“And there’s something else,” Leslie said cautiously. “And this is really important.” She leveled her gaze on Siena.
Siena grew serious.
“I don’t know many of the things that upset you, so I need you to tell me if something makes you feel anxious or scared or anything at all that isn’t happy. Will you do that?”
Siena set her jaw and nodded. “I will.”
Leslie smiled, her heart warming at Siena’s sincerity. “All right, then. That’s our day.” She slapped her thighs and stood. “I’m going to go check on your mom. Why don’t you and Gus play some ball. I got him a whole bunch of new ones, so if any go in the pool, you can grab another one. They’re in the box right outside my back door.”
Siena and Gus had both scrambled to their feet at the word ball and were on their way.
Leslie stared after them, saying good-bye to her plan to keep her distance.
* * *
Erica woke, conscious of her cheek against a soft pillow and her body cushioned by the mattress beneath her. She tried to open her eyes, to lift her head, but she couldn’t move. Was she dead? No. I feel too horrible to be dead. Every muscle in her body ached, and despite the thick blanket covering her, she shivered. She forced herself onto her back, then moaned at the pain. Where was she? She let her eyelids flutter open. She was in her bedroom, in her own bed. That was good.
But how’d I get here? The last thing she remembered was throwing up in a bucket at the same time her bowels were expelling brown water into the toilet. Lovely. And there was more. Lying on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. Heaving. So much heaving. Someone there. A shriek. She bolted upright. “Siena?”
“Take it easy. Siena’s fine.” A familiar voice.
A wave of nausea overtook her. She clamped her arms over her stomach and curled onto her side. She clenched her eyes shut and swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
Someone stroked her back. “Breathe. Deep breaths.”
Becky. Erica followed the instruction, and her stomach began to settle.
“That’s it. If you do need to throw up, there’s a bowl right here.”
No. Not Becky. A flash from earlier in the bathroom. Noooooo. Please, not Leslie. But she knew it was.
Leslie pressed her hand to Erica’s forehead. “You’re running a fever.”
“I’m so cold.” Erica couldn’t stop shaking.
Leslie pulled the blanket up over her and tucked it in around her.
“Siena. I heard her scream.”
“That was a couple of hours ago,” Leslie said. “She didn’t want to go with Jack when he came to take her to her day program, but she worked it out.”
“She went with him?”
“Not at all. She’s downstairs.” Leslie’s voice was tender. She brushed back Erica’s hair with her fingertips. “We were playing Crazy Eights when I heard you moan through the monitor. I came up to check on you.”
“She’s with you.” It wasn’t a question, rather a relieved acknowledgment. She didn’t need to worry about Siena if she was with Leslie. She knew that deep in her soul. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem,” Leslie said. “We’re having fun. You can relax.”
Leslie’s words swirled around in Erica’s head, bringing images into focus like a kaleidoscope. Siena. Gus. Crazy Eights cards. Jack. Jack? Why Jack, not Becky? “Where’s Becky?” she asked, her throat starting to burn from talking.
“She’s sick, too.” Leslie adjusted the blanket again. “Apparently, the chicken wasn’t the thing to order last night. You’ve got food poisoning.”
With the thought of her meal the previous evening, Erica felt her stomach lurch. She pushed up. She had to get to the bathroom.
Then Leslie’s strong arm was around her, holding her in place. “Here you go,” Leslie said, supporting her as she held something in front of Erica. “Here’s the bowl. Just sit for a minute. It might pass.”
It didn’t. Erica heaved once. Twice. On the third one, clear bile spilled from her mouth.
“At least there’s nothing left in your stomach,” Leslie said, as she shifted around, still holding Erica tightly. “Do you want some ice chips?”
Erica shook her head, then let Leslie ease her down onto the pillow. She couldn’t think of anything to say. She couldn’t think. She felt Leslie’s touch across her temple again, then along her cheek and neck as she tucked Erica’s hair away from her face. It wasn’t like a lover, or even the affection of a friend. It was like a mother’s touch, maternal and soothing. Erica sighed and closed her eyes. How long had it been since she’d been nurtured in any way?
“That’s it,” Leslie whispered. “Go back to sleep. It’s the best thing for you, according to Google. If you need anything, I’ll have the nursery monitor with me. Just say my name, and I’ll be right here.”
Erica smiled weakly. She could rest. Siena was with Leslie. Erica could sleep. A comfortable darkness enveloped her.
When she woke
again, her body still ached, and she was still exhausted, but her head was clearer. She could actually remember some things—sitting on the swing the night before; feeling queasy; Leslie, naked in the dim poolside lights. That was nice. And almost getting caught. I owe Gus one of those great big cow bones.
She struggled to a sitting position and tried to comb her fingers through her hair, but it was matted with sweat and…Eww. She winced at the memory of waking in the early morning, her stomach clenching, and vomiting in her bed. She startled and looked to the empty side. There was nothing there, only the rumpled, but clean, blanket she’d thrown off when her chills turned to heat. It wasn’t her comforter, though, nor were the sheets the same as when she’d gone to bed. Someone had changed the bedding, cleaned up the mess.
Leslie. She groaned. Was there no end to this string of utter humiliations? Then, of course, there was what she’d already recalled in vivid detail—Leslie coming into the bathroom while she was bent over the toilet, puking like a frat boy, wearing only a T-shirt. It all had to be universal payback for hiding in the dark and ogling Leslie’s oh-so-tempting body.
“You’re awake,” Leslie said, strolling into the room. “How are you feeling?”
Erica shoved aside her thoughts of the night before and attempted to straighten. “A little better.” She tried not to think about what she must look like, or worse, smell like, as she met Leslie’s concerned brown eyes.
“That’s great,” Leslie said with a smile. “We should probably see if we can get some water into you, so you don’t get dehydrated.”
“I’m still so tired.” Erica closed her eyes briefly.
“You’re going to need a lot of rest in the next few days.” Leslie squatted beside the bed. “Don’t rush yourself on that.”
“What I need is a shower,” Erica said, self-conscious in Leslie’s close proximity.
“Really? You look pretty pale.” She studied Erica. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
Erica turned away. She was so embarrassed. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take it slowly. I have to get clean.” She shifted her legs over the edge of the mattress.
Leslie rose and backed away, giving her space. “Do you want some help?”
A Wish Upon a Star Page 10
