Page 39 of The Grizzly Situation
BRENT
The household had descendedinto chaos within the time I spoke to the doctor until he arrived. Not long after I put Eddie in bed, Jack came out and proceeded to add to the vomit levels. I had to once again wash a sick kid down, change him into pajamas, then put him in his own bed. So now it was two sick kids with guests coming. What a clusterfuck. I almost considered calling Sandy for some help, but realized I would need to tough it out on my own, because soon she’d be leaving on her trip.
When Dr. Daniels arrived he was escorted to the room by Janelle, on of the maids. She marched him to where we were waiting and he went right to the bed, humming, poking, prodding, checking temperatures, etc. When he smiled up at me, my chest unknotted. I fully admit, my brain was hovering in that dark place, knowing that losing the kids would kill me too.
“They’re fine, Brent. A touch of stomach bug is what laid them low. The immune system in kids isn’t developed well at their age, so it’s far easier for them to pick up something that we’d ignore. A day or two of bedrest and they’ll be back to theirnormal selves. Give them plenty of liquid and sleep, then try some clear broth and see if they can keep that down. That’s the best we can do for them.”
“Should I keep everyone away from them?”
“No, it’s fine. Adults aren’t likely to be susceptible to it because our immune systems are much stronger.”
At least that wouldn’t be a problem. My thoughts went to the boys. In order to properly care for them, I’d have to beg off with Chaim and Uly. I was grateful Cullin had offered to take charge of the weekend for Chaim and his family. He knew the best fishing spots for them to have an incredible time and I could contact HR to have them take care of Uly and make sure they found him a good job somewhere not in town.
Don’t get me wrong, Icouldhave the staff take care of the kids. I hated it when my father did it, though, and I think that led to some of the strife in our relations. I could hear Jenna saying it wasn’t the staff’s job to take care of the kids, it was mine. It was mine and it should be considered a pleasure. It had been for her. After they were born, Jenna had handled all of this stuff. She directed me on what to do, and without complaint I did it. She also took care of the household staff, giving them their directions and the like. She told me she loved being home with the kids, taking care of them. Yes, she had a full contingent of people at her disposal, but these were her pride and joys, and she wanted them to bond with her, not a nanny. That was how I felt. When I was young I knew Esmerelda better than my dad, at least until I did something he deemed wrong. Which was pretty often.
Admittedly, we couldn’t have done it if we weren’t wealthy, as Jenna often reminded me. With her being sick and me working, there was a need for help in the house, as much as she hated to admit it. Her time with us was slowly ebbing away. The worst part about it, for me at least, is that even knowing she was sick,I never thought about her not being with us. I believed we’d always be together.
When she passed away, we created the Jenna Lockhart Foundation. I was grieving and trying to rebuild our lives, but my people stepped up and moved ahead with it, giving grants to families who needed help. To date we’ve given over a half-billion dollars. And I know some people say that it wasn’t enough. That we could—and should—do more. Every year we give away about twenty billion dollars to various funds the sleuth oversaw, but every year the needs grew deeper, more desperate. Admittedly, twenty billion was a tiny drop on an enormous sponge, and it was sucked up as fast as it went in.
I’d had the media try to interview me, wanting to know how we could give so much money. In the one time I agreed to sit with a reporter and told them that we had been given a gift, how could we possibly begrudge others who had nothing? What kind of people would we be if we turned our backs on those in need? I admit it, I’d hoped to guilt people into stepping up and giving back to those who’d helped them. Sadly, my pleas fell on mostly deaf ears. A few made a couple of half-hearted donations, but then stopped giving.
The one good thing was there was a grassroots movement that was raising money to help. When I met with their board, they apologized that their donations were, in their eyes, meager. To me, however, they meant the world, because it reminded me every day that we weren’t alone in doing our best to help. Even if they only raised a few thousand a year, it was something they worked hard at and, at least to our eyes, a wild success.
As I sat ruminating, the door opened. I heard one of the staff call out a greeting, then Cullin, his voice sunny, responding. It was followed by several sets of feet, and my stomach gave a nervous roll. A few moments passed before my office door swung open, and a mountain of a man filled the entryway. Ihadn’t seen Chaim in years, and he’d apparently never stopped growing. Beside him stood Benjy, also thick with muscle, but still dwarfed by his husband.
Husband? God, it felt so right to say that.
Cullin stepped forward. “Mr. Chaim Flynn and Mr. Benjy Matthews, as well as their family.”
“Chaim!” I cried out and rushed to him. Without hesitation he wrapped me in his arms and hefted me off the floor like I hadn’t put on more than a hundred pounds from my gawky kid phase.
“Hey, cub. Long time.”
I wasn’t crying. I simply had sweat leaking from my eyes.
“It’s okay,” he vowed, running his big hand over my head. “Everything is fine now.”
I glanced up at Cullin, who stood there smiling. It was disconcerting, because when he worked he rarely ever had a facial expression.
“Where’s Uly?” I asked.
“He wanted to see more of downtown, so asked if he could catch a cab here later. I gave him my card and told him to call when he was ready.”
“Good. Thank you for looking out for him. I did send messages to the sleuth telling them no shifting unless they were well outside of town. We should be fine there.”
“Is Uly the guy you were telling me about?” Chaim asked, finally settling me back on my feet.
“He is. We kept him in the wing opposite yours.”
“Why?”
“I wasn’t sure how much you cared for humans.”
“They’re fine. Most of our customers are human through no fault of their own. They were just born that way.”
He smirked when Benjy smacked him on the arm. He ushered two kids forward. “Brent, these are our brats. Brats,this is Brent.” He put a hand on the blonde girl’s shoulder. She definitely favored Benjy with her silky hair and the intensity of her blue-gray eyes. “This is Emily. Donotlet her looks deceive you. She might appear sweet and demure, but don’t buy into it. And if she ever asks you to play cards, tell her no. I’m not sure how she learned, but the girl is a shark. She’s taken too much money from the guys at the bar, and now they won’t even pretend like they enjoy her company.”
“Dad…” she started, then broke off and grumped.
