The Perfect Pitch (Indianapolis Lightning Book 1)

by Samantha Lind

  “Hopefully it passes quickly then,” I state.

  “It should. I’ve already sent the antibiotics for both of them to the pharmacy on file. If either of you start feeling sick within the next seventy-two hours, I’d suggest being seen for a course of your own antibiotics. Both girls will be contagious for the next day or so, but should start to feel better once they’ve got a day’s worth of meds in them. As for the other symptoms, just treat as needed. You can continue to rotate the children’s Tylenol and ibuprofen, as needed, for fever or any headaches and-or body aches they may have.”

  “Thank you,” Derek speaks up before I can.

  “Your girls will be back to their normal giggly, twirling selves within the next day or two. In the meantime, just keep up on hydration and meds, as needed. Don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything, or if they don’t start to respond to the antibiotics within the next forty-eight hours.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Dunn.” We follow her out, each carrying a sleeping child in our arms.

  “Yeesh!” I say a few minutes later, finally setting Penelope down in her car seat. I shake my arms out, helping to return blood flow properly to them. “She’s getting heavy, especially when it’s all dead weight.”

  “They both are,” Derek agrees as he gets Addison settled in her seat. We finish up with securing both girls, then climb into our seats. “I figured I’d swing into the pharmacy on the way back to the house. Do you want me to just go through the drive through, or do you need anything else? Are you stocked up on the kids Tylenol and ibuprofen?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to pick up both. My luck, we’d run out at two a.m.”

  He winks at me as he pulls out of the parking lot. “Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

  It only takes us a few minutes to drive to the pharmacy. Derek pulls into a spot and hops out of the truck. “Need anything else?” he asks, holding his door open.

  “Maybe some mini cans of Sprite or 7-Up, as well as a box of Pedialyte popsicles.”

  “Anything else?”

  “That’s all I can think of for now,” I tell him and he shuts his door. I watch as he walks inside and out of my view, then pull my phone from my purse to pass the time. Both girls are still asleep in their car seats. I scroll through my Facebook feed, then flip over and do the same on Instagram. I snap a picture of the girls sleeping and post it on a whim. It doesn’t take long before my phone pings with a text message.

  Mariah: What’s wrong with the girls? Why didn’t you tell me they were sick?

  Jillian: They’re both down with strep. It hit them hard and fast. We just left the doctor about ten minutes ago. I’m sitting outside the pharmacy right now.

  Mariah: And is that the inside of Derek’s truck?

  Jillian: Why yes, it is.

  Mariah: Ugh, strep sucks. Sorry they’re both down with it. And why might you be in his truck?

  Jillian: Because I called him to come stay with Addison. Penny was the first one down. She was sick all night. It wasn’t until this morning that Addy got sick. Since he was already at the house, I asked him if he could just come to help me with the girls at the appointment. It was a good thing since they both passed out and had to be carried out to the truck. He’s inside now, grabbing their meds and a few things to get us through the next day or so.

  Mariah: Well, I’m glad to hear he’s stepping up and helping.

  Jillian: He’s been really great, actually. Only time will tell if it continues.

  Mariah: And do you want it to continue?

  Jillian: Of course, I do. I’ve always wanted Derek more present and involved.

  Mariah: You can be honest; you just want to get laid again.

  Jillian: Well, you’re not wrong. And he is talented in the bedroom….

  Mariah: Lalalalala…. please. No details. :puking face:

  Jillian: You were the one to bring it up.

  Mariah: I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.

  Jillian: Why don’t I believe you?

  Mariah: Call me if you need anything.

  Jillian: Nice subject change. I’ll let you know. Thanks.

  I slip my phone back into my purse, then lay my head back on the seat and close my eyes. I relax into it, listening to the radio quietly playing in the background. The exhaustion starts to set in, and I drift off to sleep as we wait. I pop awake when Derek opens the door, the noise causing me to startle.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says quietly as he settles into his seat.

  “It’s okay. Did you get everything?” I ask, looking at the bags he’s got in his hand.

  “I think so. Antibiotics, ibuprofen and Tylenol, some 7-Up and Pedialyte popsicles, and last but not least, a bottle of wine for you,” he says, a small smile on his face.

  “You really thought of everything,” I tell him as I take the bags from him. He buckles up, then pulls out of the parking spot. I relax back as he drives us home.

  The girls are settled in their beds, both medicated and sleeping off respective fevers. I check on each of them once again, making sure their temperatures are coming down after the last dose of Tylenol. I quickly scan their foreheads with the thermometer and find that both are coming down, albeit slowly. I sneak back out of their rooms, not wanting to wake them, then head for the living room to relax.

  “I was going to order us some takeout. Do you want anything specific?” Derek asks as I enter.

  “I’m not picky tonight.” I take a seat at the opposite end of the couch from him. I pull the throw blanket that’s laying over the back onto me, the exhaustion hitting me once again, like it did earlier in the truck.

  “Why don’t you go take a nap? I can wake you when the food gets here, or just put it away and you can eat once you wake up. I’ll listen for the girls so you can sleep.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask as I yawn.

  “Positive. Go get some sleep,” he reiterates, poking the bottom of my outstretched foot.

  “Okay.” I stand up, not having the energy to fight about it right now. “Thank you again for all your help today. I really appreciate it,” I pause to tell him before I head for my bedroom. I’m really thankful Derek was here today. I don’t know how I would have gotten both of the girls to and from the doctor’s office with both of them sick.

  I stop in the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face before changing into some sleep pants and a t-shirt. I’m sure one or both of the girls will be up at some point tonight, seeing as it’s only early evening. I slide into bed, pulling the covers up and around me as I slip off to sleep.

  I startle awake, looking around as I strain to hear if anyone else is awake in the house. I look at the windows and it’s pitch black outside from what I can tell, so I’m sure it’s the middle of the night. I can hear faint voices, so I know someone is awake. I blink again, and look at the clock on the nightstand to see it’s three thirty in the morning. I can’t believe I slept so long.

  I slip out of bed, and after a quick pit stop in the bathroom, I quietly make my way out to the living room. I find Derek awake with Penny in his lap. They’ve got Disney Jr. on quietly in the background, but neither one of them is paying much attention to it as they’re talking in-depth about something, or as in-depth as a three-year-old can. My heart melts as I eavesdrop on them. They’re talking low enough that I can’t quite hear what it is they’re saying, not that I really care what it is that has them awake at this hour.

  It’s moments like these that I miss. The moments I crave for us to have as a family, for the girls and Derek to have together. They’re only little once and when these days pass, we can never get them back. I never want him to regret not taking advantage of these moments, and hope he can fulfill his promise of changing and being present more.

  “How’s it going?” I finally ask, not wanting to be the creeper in the corner.

  “We’re good. Just having a middle-of-the-night party,” Derek says, looking up at me with a big smile on his face.

  “That�
�s good. Does that mean that someone is starting to feel a little better?”

  “I think so,” Derek answers. “This one woke up about two forty-five or so, hungry and with a broken fever. She’s had a Pedialyte popsicle and a few animal crackers and has done well with that. I’ve refilled her water bottle, as well.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better, baby girl,” I tell Penelope, then sit down next to her and Derek. I press my hand to her forehead and, as he said, her fever is gone. I really hope it’s gone for good.

  “Did you have a good nap?” Derek asks me a few moments later.

  “I did. I crashed quickly and slept like the dead.”

  “Good. Are you hungry? The food is in the fridge.”

  Just then, my stomach loudly growls, causing all three of us to laugh. “I’m starving,” I tell them between fits of laughter.

  “Want me to heat you up a plate?” Derek offers.

  I stand up and head for the kitchen. “I can get it. You two look cozy, so stay put.”

  “Mommy,” I hear Penny call out a minute later.

  “Yes, baby?” I walk over to the living room entrance and peek in.

  “Can I have another popsicle?”

  “Sure. Do you want anything to eat?”

  “No, just the popsicle,” she says, blinking her lashes at me as she gives me that puppy dog “you can’t say no to me” face.

  “One popsicle, coming right up.” I head back to the kitchen and finish making a plate of food for myself, and grab her the popsicle. “Here ya go,” I say, handing it over to Derek to help her hold since it’s so cold.

  “Thank you,” she squeaks out between small bites.

  “Does that feel good on your throat?” I ask between bites of my own.

  “Mmhmmm.” She hums as she nods her head.

  “Has Addison been up?” I ask Derek.

  “She woke up around eleven, for twenty or so minutes. Went to the bathroom, had some water. I gave her a dose of meds and a popsicle, and she went back to sleep.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be up sooner than later then, hungry.”

  “Probably. Seems we’re all kind of on a weird schedule right now.”

  “That we are. It’s been years since I ate Chinese takeout at”—I pause and look at the clock—“four twenty in the morning.”

  “We’ve had some good memories, eating cold takeout in the middle of the night,” Derek says, leaning over to tap me on the knee. The smirk that fills his lips tells me he’s thinking about what else used to fill those late nights from our college and early days together.

  “You could say that,” I tell him, remembering just the same. How carefree we were all those years ago, before the responsibility that comes with getting older, having kids, a house, and just life in general. It’s amazing how far we’ve come over the years. I never thought we’d be in this position, both still so in love with each other, yet so far apart at the same time. Would I change it if I could? Hell yes, I would. I want what we used to have. The way things used to be. Before the pressure, before the drinking and the partying, and the chaos that spiraled things out of control and brought us to this point in our lives, our marriage.

  Nine

  Derek

  I sit on the couch with Penelope on my lap, a frozen popsicle in my hand as she munches away on it. Thank God her fever finally broke and she appears to be feeling a little better. Holding her this last little bit, talking to her, just the two of us, makes me realize all I’ve missed out on the last couple of years. Makes me realize just how bad I fucked up.

  “Do you want to head home so you can get some sleep?” Jillian asks, breaking the silence.

  “I’m good. I told you I’d stay. I can sleep here later.”

  “I can take over if you wanted to go in and sleep now.”

  “I’m good, Jill. There’s nowhere else I want to be right now, okay?” I tell her sincerely, looking her dead in the eyes so she can see how genuine my words are in this moment.

  “Okay.”

  “If you wanted to go back in and get some sleep, you can,” I offer. “I’m sure both girls will be full of energy today, now they’ve had a day’s worth of meds in them and fevers appear to be breaking.”

  “I might go get a few more hours. Wake me if you need anything?” she asks, standing from the couch. She’s got her hair pulled up into a messy bun, sleep pants and a t-shirt on, and not a stitch of makeup, yet she still takes my breath away. She’s still the most beautiful woman in the world to me.

  As she walks past the couch where I’m seated with Penny in my lap, I reach my hand out and snag hers. I lace our fingers together, squeezing quickly a few times to really get her attention.

  “What?” she asks, stopping behind the couch.

  “I love you. I know I didn’t show it enough these last few years, but I never stopped loving you.”

  “Derek.” My name comes out on a sigh.

  “It’s true,” I say, bringing our clasped hands to my mouth. I kiss the back of hers before I release it. “I’ll prove it to you, and that’s a promise.”

  She pulls her hand back, then stares at me for a few moments before retreating down the hall. I can tell my words have hit her and maybe, just maybe, are starting to sink in. Starting to give her hope we can get back to where we once were. That I can once again be the man she can lean on and trust to know I’ll have her back, to be the backbone she needs to stand strong.

  “Daddy, can we make cookies?” Addison asks after lunch.

  “I guess so,” I tell her, laughing at her and Penny’s antics. The doctor wasn’t lying when she said they’d probably bounce back by today. Now, if I could bounce back that quick on the lack of sleep I’m running on.

  “Yay! Can I lick the spoon?” she asks.

  “Ummm. We’ll see,” I reply, not wanting to commit to anything like that for now. “How about we get Mommy to help us? Daddy’s not the best baker and I might burn the kitchen down without Mom’s help.”

  I can man the grill, boil some water, and bake a pizza, but that’s about the extent of my culinary skills.

  “Mommy!” The girls go running and screaming out of the kitchen. “Daddy needs your help!” they yell out to her.

  “I’m right here, girls,” Jillian calls back as she walks down the hall and into the kitchen, the girls following close behind her. “What do you need help with?”

  “We’re making cookies!” Addison exclaims, twirling in a circle in front of Jillian.

  “You are?!” Jillian asks, eyebrows shooting up and into her hairline as she looks over at me with a huge smile on her face.

  “I couldn’t tell them no.” I hold up my hands and shrug my shoulders in a “what else could I say or do” manner.

  “You’re going to have to figure that word out one of these days,” she teases me.

  I groan. “Don’t remind me.”

  “All right, let’s show Daddy how it’s done.” Jillian walks over to the pantry and starts pulling out ingredients, handing the containers to the girls, who place them on the countertop. “Time to wash up,” she instructs all of us. We all take turns scrubbing our hands with soap and water, not wanting any of the girls’ germs getting into our cookies.

  “Okay, what’s first?” I ask, looking at my three girls. If I was a cartoon character, I’d probably have heart eyes or a thought bubble above my head filled with all my thoughts about these three.

  “First, we preheat the oven, then measure out all the dry ingredients into a bowl.” Jillian presses some buttons on the oven, then pulls a bowl from the cabinet and sets it on the counter. Next, she grabs the measuring cups and spoons from a drawer and places them out in front of the girls. They must already know what to do as they’ve both pulled up stools and are waiting patiently. “I follow the recipe on the back of the chocolate chip bag, the only thing that I do differently is use a brick of cream cheese to substitute out the eggs.”

  “Sounds easy enough,” I tell her, pulling
the bag in front of me to read the ingredients. I grab the one-cup measuring cup, open the flour container, and fill it up, leveling it off and holding it out for one of the girls to take and empty it into the bowl.

  “You’re good at that,” I praise Addison as she dumps the flour, making sure not to make a mess of it.

  “Yep!” she agrees with me and I laugh at her confidence.

  “Me next, Daddy!” Penny exclaims as I scoop another cup full. I hand it to her once I’ve leveled it off and she follows suit, just like her sister did, carefully dumping it into the bowl. They take turns with each of the ingredients until we’ve got everything measured and mixed together.

  “Who’s ready for a taste?” Jill asks, holding out four spoons.

  “Me! Me! Me!” they both yell out, excited to be getting a taste of the batter.

  “Okay, go sit down and I’ll give you a spoonful.” They do exactly that as she scoops a small amount onto two of the spoons and hands them over to each of the girls. “Since we didn’t use egg, the batter is safe for Penelope to eat,” she tells me as she scoops another spoonful, this one a little bigger, and hands it to me.

  “It doesn’t taste any different,” I reply, licking the spoon clean.

  “Nope, yet it allows her to participate, not only while I’m baking, but lets her have a taste of the batter.”

  “Where’d you learn that trick?”

  “One of the food allergy groups I’m in on Facebook. It’s amazing what all you can substitute for eggs and not even know the difference. I even like these better once cooked. The cream cheese keeps them soft, even days later.”