Page 27 of Entirely Yours
“Mommy’s not feeling good,” she states.
“I’m aware.”
Chloe stares up at me, so I stare back at her.
“Let him in, Chlo!” Thea calls from somewhere in the apartment.
Chloe makes me wait another few seconds before waving me in with, “You may enter.”
I duck my head in thanks, and she surprises me by curtseying in response. Feeling like that’s my in, I get down on her level and whisper, “What’s wrong with your mommy?”
“Her tummy hurts.”
Great, Pepto Bismol it is. “And where’s your grandpa?”
“Pop is at the dance studio with his hammer bag.”
A chuckle bubbles up. “His hammer bag?”
She leans in. “Yeah, like for his hammer and tools,” she says, eyeing me as though she’s trying to figure out if I’m stupid for not knowing what a hammer bag is.
“Did you let him in, Chloe?” Thea calls again.
“I’m here. Can I come back there?” I ask.
Chloe’s little hand grabs mine and guides me back to the bedroom. I pop my head in and am immediately greeted with a wall full of rainbow drawings hung up with painters tape. The queen bed has about twenty stuffed animals on one side and a sick Thea on the other side.
“Have you eaten?” The thought hits me. “I should have brought food. Let me call Ben.”
“Hold your horses, I’ve eaten! Dad force-fed me some crackers because nothing sounded good,” she mumbles.
I walk over and take a seat on the floor next to her bed. I should feel hesitant about taking care of this woman I barely know, but I don’t. Reaching up, I brush a piece ofhair off her forehead. It doesn’t feel warm so that’s a positive.
“Your medicine cabinet will be well stocked after this. I wasn’t sure what you’d need.” I hold up the pharmacy bag as proof. “Chloe says your stomach hurts. Have you taken anything?”
She shakes her head no, so I pull out a few Pepto chewables.
“Thank you,” she whispers, a small smile gracing her lips. “The last time I felt like this I was?—”
Her voice cuts off and her eyes go wide. Thea is staring at me as if she’s seen a ghost.
“Is it the medicine?” I ask at the same time Chloe says, “You were what, Mommy?”
Thea looks back and forth between the two of us and then clears her throat. “I was… younger. I was younger the last time I felt like this...”
Her eyes meet mine and wince. It’s like she’s trying to communicate something without telling me, but as hard as I’ve tried, I’m not a mind reader. “How much younger?” I ask.
She looks from me to Chloe, back again. “Nineteen.”
Fuck. Fuck.
FuckfuckFUCK.
“Language, Mommy!” Chloe chastises me. I guess I said that out loud.
I sit straight up in bed and push Chloe’s hair back. “Sorry, my chicken. You can have ice cream if you don’t tell Pop.”
“ICE CREAM!” My fucks are quickly forgotten as Chloe runs to the kitchen. I can hear a chair scraping across the floor so she can reach the freezer.
