by Denise Carbo
A thin, white, layer of frost covers the ground. The weather changed seemingly overnight as it’s prone to do here in New Hampshire. At least we weren’t trudging through a foot of snow on Halloween—which has happened before. Barely November, but it’s time to drag out the kids’ winter coats, boots, gloves, and hats. Hopefully, they’ll still fit at least until after Christmas. If I can wait that long, then the stores will start putting the winter gear on sale to make room for spring lines.
“Mom?” Timmy calls from upstairs. “I don’t feel good.”
Uh oh. I place my mug of coffee on the counter by the kitchen sink and head upstairs. It can’t be an overdose of Halloween candy. I’ve been judiciously handing those out—unless they found the stash.
Timmy huddles in his bed with the covers wrapped around him and a tired pout on his face. I glance over at the twin bed on the opposite side of the room. Tommy is still fast asleep.
I walk over and put the back of my hand against his forehead. He’s hot.
“Come on, bud.” I free him from the covers and wrap my arm around him to guide him into my room. If I can separate them early enough, maybe Tommy won’t get whatever Timmy has. Wishful thinking most likely, but I have to try. “Climb into my bed. I’ll get the thermometer and be right back.”
He lays down on my pillow and I cover him up, brushing his hair off his forehead. I grab the thermometer out of the bathroom and confirm his fever.
I lie down behind him and wrap my arms around him. “Is it your tummy?”
He nods.
I kiss him on the back of his head. “Be right back.” I jog downstairs to get a bowl in case his tummy launches a full-scale rebellion.
Obviously, he can’t go to school. Which means I need to decide what to do about work. I can’t ask my mom. She works mornings at the bank. Besides, I would hate to expose her and possibly Dad to something contagious. I really wish Oli was still here, but he left on Sunday to go back to Boston.
Which means I have to call Franny—unless Ryan could pitch in? No, I can’t do that. I would expose potentially hundreds of customers to whatever Timmy has.
I return with the bowl and settle back in behind him.
“Mom!”
Uh oh, please don’t let Tommy be sick too. I scoot off the bed and hurry to his room. He’s sitting up holding his stomach. Tears fill his eyes and he turns white.
I run back to my room, grab the bowl, and rush back to his room. He bends over just as I shove the bowl under his face and empties the contents of his stomach into the bowl. Once he’s done, I carry it to the bathroom to dispose of it, clean it, and get a wet washcloth for him.
He’s lying down. “Where’s Timmy?”
“In my bed. He doesn’t feel good either.”
“Can I go in there too?”
I nod and help him up. There’s no point in trying to separate them now.
When he’s snuggled into my bed with his sleeping brother, I kiss him on the head. “I have to call Franny and let her know I can’t make it to work today. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Call if you or your brother need me.”
“Can you call from here?”
“Okay, but I still have to get my phone. I left it downstairs.” And I want to get two clean bowls just in case. I stop at the threshold of my room and glance over my shoulder. My poor little angels.
Downstairs, I grab two fresh bowls and stuff the other one in the dishwasher. Then I pick up my phone from where I left it on the counter next to my, now, cold coffee. It’s early, but I know Franny is already at the bakery so I dial her number as I walk to the stairs.
“Hi Olivia.”
“Hi Franny. I’m so sorry, but the boys are both sick. I’m not going to be able to make it in today.”
“Oh no, poor kids, poor you. Can I do anything for you?”
“No, thanks, they’ve got a stomach bug or the flu. They both have a fever and Tommy has already thrown up. I don’t think you want me at the bakery even if I can get Ryan to take a sick day to watch them.”
“No, that wouldn’t be good. Keep me posted and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Thanks, Franny. I’m really sorry to leave you in the lurch like this.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll drag Lucinda downstairs to help. You just concentrate on your sons.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll let you know about tomorrow.”
“Why don’t we already call tomorrow a sick day? You let me know about the weekend, okay?”
“That’s probably a good idea. I don’t know how contagious they are. Bye Franny.”
“Bye. Take care and good luck.”
I’m going to need it. Leaning against the doorframe to my bedroom I watch my boys. I glance at the clock on my nightstand. Two hours before the doctor’s office opens and an hour until I can call the school to let them know the boys will be absent.
Tommy pats the bed next to him and I walk in and put the bowls on the end of the bed within reach and crawl up the bed to lie between them.
Tommy snuggles up to my side.
* * *
An elbow jams me in the throat and drags me out of sleep. I pry my eyes open and gently lift the little arm off me and back over onto Timmy. A peek at them both confirms they’re sleeping soundly. The clock reads seven o’clock in the morning. They’ve made it through the night without getting sick.
I inch my way down the center of my bed, careful not to disturb them. Their fevers broke yesterday afternoon. Two days of holding the bowls for both of them and cleaning up. I ran out of clean bowls last night and forgot to run the dishwasher again so I ended up emptying a bowl of potpourri I had on my dresser and keeping it on my nightstand just in case. I was too tired to go back downstairs and wash a bowl out once I got the boys to sleep last night.
I shuffle down the stairs and turn on the coffee maker. I glance at the overflowing sink full of dirty dishes. Instead of filling the dishwasher, I search the cabinets until I find a clean coffee mug and lean against the counter with my eyes closed waiting for the coffee to brew.
After I fill the cup, I open the fridge to pour a few drops of milk into the cup and then walk over to the table and collapse into a chair.
Ryan will be here in an hour and a half to pick the boys up. Should I have him stay here with them just to make sure they get rest? I sip at the hot coffee careful not to scald my tongue.
I glance down at the T-shirt and pajama bottoms I’ve been wearing since yesterday afternoon when I changed again after one of the boys’ aim was less than exemplary. I need a shower and another gallon of coffee to make it into work today.
Laying my head down on the table, I close my eyes. I just need a few minutes.
My phone rings and I snap my head up staring at the phone and blinking.
Shit!
It’s eight thirty. I fell asleep. Ryan will be here soon and I’m not ready for work.
Ryan’s name flashes on the screen. He better not be calling to tell me he’s going to be late.
I snap up the phone and slide my thumb across the bottom of the screen to answer. “Hi.”
“How are the boys?”
“Their fevers both broke yesterday and they haven’t thrown up since yesterday afternoon.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, but they’re both still sleeping and I think they need the rest.”
“That’s actually what I was calling about.”
“What do you mean?” Did he have the same idea to stay with the boys here today?
“Like you said, they need their rest and I can’t afford to get sick and miss work. I think it’s best they stay with you this weekend. I’ll pick them up next weekend.”
My mouth drops open and I press two fingers between my eyes—hard. “Ryan, I have to work today and tomorrow.”
“You work part time at a bakery, Olivia. I don’t mean to be a dick but I think you depend on the checks I give you for alimony and child support more than what you earn there.”
/> Tears fill my eyes. I slant my jaw side to side and resist the urge to bang my phone on the table.
“I work full time now and that’s not the point. I’ve already missed two days. It’s not fair to Franny and I need the money.”
“Be reasonable. Call your mother if you insist on going in, but I can’t take the risk. I think you should stay home with the boys rather than pawn them off on your mother. Tell them I’ll call later to check on them.”
He disconnects and I stare at the phone for a moment before dropping it on the table and then letting gravity do the same to my head. The cool wood smooshes my cheek as tears overflow my eyes and run down the length of my nose.
It’s not fair.
I don’t pawn my kids off on anyone. My job is important. I make approximately the same working for Franny that I get from Ryan for alimony and child support. I need both to survive. Two days without pay was bad enough. Four days will break my budget for the month.
What am I going to do?
I sniffle and raise my head. I’m due at the bakery in fifteen minutes. I must call her.
Wiping the tears from my face with my hands, I scrub my damp hands on my pajama pants and sniffle again.
My mom works Saturday mornings at the bank anyway, I can’t ask her. Dad might be home if he didn’t have any plans, but is that fair to them?
I dial Franny’s number and gnaw on my bottom lip.
“Hey, how are the boys?”
“They’re better. They slept through the night. No more fever.”
“That’s great, but what’s wrong? You sound upset.”
“I can’t make it into work today Franny. I’m really sorry, but Ryan called and he’s not taking care of them this weekend. Doesn’t want to get sick.” My lip quivers and I squeeze my hand into a fist.
“Don’t worry about work, Olivia. Lucinda has been helping and if it gets too busy Mitch will pop in and probably cause a riot of customers to storm the bakery.”
Tears course down my cheeks once again and I press my lips together to hold back the sobs wanting to shake free.
“Olivia, are you okay? What can I do to help you?”
I let out a choked sigh. “I’m just exhausted.”
“Then go back to bed. Don’t spend a single minute worrying over the bakery until Wednesday. I’ll call and check in later, okay?”
“Thanks, Franny, I appreciate your understanding.”
“Don’t give it another thought. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I disconnect and drop my phone face down on the table. Propping my elbow on the table, I hold my forehead in my hand.
The heat pouring off my head registers just as my stomach rolls and my mouth waters.
Perfect.
I run for the bathroom and pray this stomach bug runs its course quick.
Chapter 21
The bed dips beside me, but I can’t drum up enough energy to open my eyes to see if it’s Timmy or Tommy. “What do you need, sweety?”
“I think it’s more along the lines of what you need.”
My eyes pop open.
Luke is sitting on the bed next to me staring down at me. I shoot up and immediately sink back down.
“Easy there.” He places a hand on my shoulder and nudges me back to my pillow.
“What are you doing here? Where are the boys?” I glance at the clock to see it’s eight o’clock on Sunday morning. Yesterday is a bit of a blur, but I managed to feed and wrangle the kids in between bathroom visits. They had been safely tucked into their beds when I peeked in at them when my stomach woke me at three this morning.
“They’re downstairs eating cereal. I noticed your car hasn’t left the driveway in a few days so I came to check on you. I tried calling, but I got no answer.”
“Boys were sick and they gave it to me. You shouldn’t be here. You’re going to get sick.” My phone is probably dead. I forgot to plug it in last night.
I roll on my side and close my eyes. I can only imagine the disaster I look like or the mess my house is in. I don’t care. Much.
“I never get sick.”
“Neither do I. You can see how that’s worked out.”
He chuckles and puts his hand on my forehead. “You’re warm.”
“No, I’m not, I’m freezing.” I snuggle farther under the blankets.
He tucks the blankets around my shoulders. “What can I do for you?”
“Forget you ever saw me like this.”
Luke laughs. “What? Adorable and pouty?”
I pry open one eye. “You have rather questionable taste.”
He grins. “Are you hungry?”
I yank the blanket over my head. “Please don’t mention food to me.”
“Okay, how about I keep the boys occupied and check on you from time to time? If you need anything, you can just give me a holler.”
I lower the blanket. “You’re offering to babysit the boys? You heard me say you’re going to get sick, right? You could pass it to Barbara and Joey.”
“I’ll stay away from them for a few days to be safe.”
He should go home, but I don’t want him to. I want him to stay and entertain the boys so I can sleep. He rolls the sleeves of his royal blue and black plaid shirt up past his elbows like he’s preparing for battle.
Ryan will be pissed. We’re supposed to discuss bringing anyone into the boys’ lives first. Especially anyone we’re dating.
I wouldn’t be in this situation if he hadn’t bailed on me this weekend because he was afraid to get sick.
“You’re thinking pretty hard over there. Care to share your concerns so I can help alleviate them?”
“Do you see my phone anywhere?”
Luke glances at my nightstands and then around the room before walking into the hallway and calling down to the boys, “Do you see your mom’s phone anywhere?” He sticks his head in the bathroom and then steps inside. He appears a moment later with my phone in his hand. “Never mind,” he calls down the stairs.
Huh, I must have brought it in with me during the night and left it there. He walks into my room and I point to the nightstand behind me. “There’s a cord there somewhere. Could you plug it in for me please?”
He walks around my bed and I hear him rustling around for the cord. The phone dings so he must have found it and plugged it in.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. What else can I do for you?”
“If you’re one hundred percent certain you want to stay and you’re willing to accept the consequences, then thank you, I appreciate it.”
“I’m sure. Anything I should know about watching the boys?”
“They can be demons disguised as angels—especially after they’ve been cooped up for days. Tread lightly.”
He chuckles. “Got it.”
“Seriously, they might test the limits with you to see what they can get away with. Tommy is the one you have to watch out for. Don’t let them have too much sugar. They will go insane. It’s not a myth.”
“Understood. I was a ten-year-old boy once, I think I can handle it.”
I drum up a tiny smile. “Okay.”
“I’m going to bring you up some water and then I want you to try and sleep. The boys and I will be fine.”
“Mm hmm.”
When he walks down the stairs, I roll over and pick up my phone to text Ryan.
I’m sick. My neighbor, Luke, is here watching the boys. He’s not afraid to get sick. Don’t call me to argue because I won’t answer.
I hit send and drop my phone behind me on the bed.
If Luke survives today, Ryan and I will need to discuss my budding relationship with my neighbor.
Chapter 22
My living room has been turned into a giant tent, or a series of tents. I’m not exactly sure which. Blankets, cushions, and even beach towels drape over every surface linking the entire room together.
Timmy and Tommy’s voices are coming from somewhere under the massive creation.
I pause on the stairs and listen.
“They’re plotting my demise in our next Nerf battle.”
Luke stands in the dining area with his arms resting on the banister. The light blue chambray shirt he’s wearing looks soft and inviting. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m reentering the land of the living.” The shower helped immensely—that and the end to my stomach ejecting all its contents constantly. The black yoga pants, T-shirt, and hoodie I’m wearing won’t win any fashion awards, but they’re comfortable and all I can manage yet.
“Ready to handle some food? Your friend, Franny, stopped by and dropped off a couple casserole dishes and an enormous number of treats. The kids and I have practiced restraint and saved you some.”
She did? I must have slept through her visit. Along with most of the past twenty-four hours. “That was sweet of her.”
“Got to meet Barb’s celebrity crush too.”
“Hmm? Oh, Mitch was with her?”
Luke nods as I walk down the rest of the stairs.
“Listen, I can’t thank you enough for watching the boys for me. You’re a life saver and you not only survived it, but you built them that colossal fort in there.”
“Fortress.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a fortress. They’re calling it The Banner Fortress.”
“Oh, of course they are.” I chuckle and shake my head. “Really, thank you.”
I put my hand on his arm and lean up to kiss his cheek.
His gaze drops to my lips. “You can thank me later.”
“Oh really? I guess I will.”
Luke smiles and pulls out one of the chairs. “Sit, I’ll get you something to eat.”
“Not too much. I better start light.”
“How about one of these awesome muffins she brought over?” He tilts the open box from The Sweet Spot towards me. “I’m adding the bakery to my must go to list.”
“Yeah, those are good. You have a list?”
“I do now.” He brings one over. “How about a cup of tea? Barb said it’s better than coffee when you’ve got stomach issues.”
He talked to Barb about my illness. “Okay.”
“Hi Mom.” Timmy leans against my arm. “Do you feel better?”
