Page 27 of Life After Levi

I really can’t. I can feel the nausea building in my esophagus and have been swallowing back bile for the past ten or fifteen minutes. So, when I see a bathroom come into view, I veer in that direction while saying, “Just get me a ham and cheese sandwich with mayo, mustard, and onion, please.”

I’m barely in the stall before I’m on my knees throwing up my breakfast. The pounding that had receded is now back with a vengeance. Strong hands pull my hair back from my face while tiny ones place a wet paper towel on the back of my neck.

“I brought him in with me, Mama,” Vinnie whispers. “I knew you were going to get sick.” Thankfully, this is a family bathroom, so we won’t get bombarded with worried mothers concerned about the fact a man is in the stall with me.

Great. Just great. The last thing I want is the man that I’m steadily falling for to see me hurling up my guts. He doesn’t say anything, he reaches out and flushes the toilet once I pull back to indicate I’m done. Then he helps me stand and when we leave the stall I was in, which was apparently either the handicap one or the family one, he smiles at a woman standing at the sink.

“Mama was sick,” Vinnie explains as I walk to the other sink to rinse out my mouth and wash my hands. “We had to help her.”

“Of course, you did, little one,” the older woman says. “I’m sure that helps your mommy to know you and your daddy are there when she isn’t feeling well.”

Surprisingly, neither Vinnie nor Damien corrects her misconception. Instead, he lifts my daughter up so she can wash her own hands, helping her squirt the soap out, then laughing when bubbles fill the sink. After he hands her some paper towels so she can dry off, he washes his own, then he scoops her onto his hip, his arm cradling her against his side before he grabs my hand in his.

“Let’s get you back to our room so you can take your good medicine, okay?” he asks as he leads us out of the family bathroom.

I’m trying so hard to put one foot in front of the other that I barely nod as I allow him to take us back to our suite. Once we’re inside, he says, “Go get changed into something comfortable and take your medicine. Vinnie and I’ll run back down and grab our lunch.”

“I’m sorry,” I croak out, my throat now raw from the vigorous vomiting I just endured.

“No reason to apologize. Remember, I’ve got issues of my own. Today being a chill day works well for all of us, Em. I mean, even with sunscreen, Vinnie is a bit pink. So, we just enjoy being together, even if it means you sleep curled against me and drool through my T-shirt,” he teases.

“I would never!” I exclaim, only to hear him chuckle. “Okay, I might, because the pain meds the doctor gave me when I get a migrainedoknock me out.”

* * *

I sighwith relief as I spit out the toothpaste. I spent a good five minutes scrubbing every part of my mouth to rid it of that vile taste. Once I’m satisfied, I rinse the sink then get into the shower, sighing as the hot water sluices across my shoulders. Again, thankfully, I don’t have to wash my hair which is back up in a hair clip, so it doesn’t take long to let the water work its magic. After I dry off, I slip on a pair of fuzzy socks that match my sweatpants and T-shirt. I don’t worry about my bra because right now, something that restrictive will set off my sensory issues. Those don’t normally bother me unless a migraine strikes. Then, I want to be in loose clothes. I don’t even care that Damien will see my unbound breasts; if we’re going to build a relationship between the two of us, eventually, he’ll see more than that.

A knock at the door has me turning. “Em? We’re back with sandwiches. I also got you some soup and crackers because I thought it might settle your stomach. Vinnie said you like ginger ale when you get a headache like this, so we bought some of that as well.”

I open the door, a smile on my face despite the pain and say, “I don’t deserve you, Damien.”

“You deserve the world, Emerie, and if it’s in my power to do so, I plan to give it to you and Levinia both.”

He leads me to the bedroom by my hand and gets me set up on the bed he’s been sleeping in, with pillows propped against the headboard, giving me a fluffy place to lounge. Once I’m comfortable, Vinnie brings me a bottle of ginger ale and some crackers, while he hands me a bowl of soup.

“Where are your pills?” he asks as I carefully eat while Vinnie’s gaze never leaves my face.

I don’t like that she’s worried; this is supposed to be a fun time for the three of us. “In the side pocket of my bag,” I reply. “Vinnie, what are you going to call your chicken you won?” I ask in an effort to distract her.

“Maybe Clementine,” she muses. “She’s got orange feathers, see, Mama?” Damien hands me the bottle and I quickly take out the prescribed dose, then swallow them down with some ginger ale.

“That’s a good name, Vinnie. How about you climb up here and snuggle with me? I know one of your hugs will help me feel better.”

She looks at Damien and whispers, “I bet one of yours will help too, Mr. Damien.”

ChapterSixteen

Damien

It’s beena few weeks since we returned from our vacation at the waterpark. Emerie is knee-deep in orientation activities, and I’m now staying at Miriam and Dale’s and helping him with chores on the farm. The best part of my time spent with them is that it’s brought me closer to Levinia, as well as Emerie’s extended family.

Right now, she’s on her forty-eight-hour shift, so Vinnie’s staying at the farm. As I finish getting dressed, there’s a knock on my bedroom door and I hear her sweet voice yelling, “Mr. Damien! You have to come see! Some of the hens hadbabies!They’re so fuzzy and cute. Memaw said we’re going to put them in a special box and bring them into the kitchen.”

After slipping on my boots, I open the door and grin down at her. She’s such a bubbly little girl, and while I’ve seen her throw the occasional tantrum, overall, she’s well-behaved and listens. “Then let’s go see these babies,” I reply, holding my hand out for her to take.

She giggles as we make our way through the house then out the back door onto the porch, where I see a bushel full of beans that I suspect Miriam will be culling in order to can them. “Come on! They’re over here,” she giddily says as she practically drags me over to the chicken coop where I see Miriam bent over a wooden box.

“Here, let me help,” I offer my service to the older woman when she tries to lift it without tilting it. Daily swimming as well as the hot tub has further strengthened my leg, so I’m not worried that I’ll drop it. “Oh, look at them,” I murmur, staring down at the chirping chicks. “How many in all?” I ask Miriam.

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