Page 4 of The Boss and the Adoption Mess
Rosie hands it to me. One glance is enough: It’s a similar model to mine. Same company. "So, do you also have a glucose sensor on your arm?"
"The sugar button? Yep."
She pushes up her sleeve a bit, and I see it.
"Ah, great." I check the meter.
Her sugar level is already rising dramatically, going into the red zone. And what does she do? She climbs back onto the barstool and grabs the spoon.
This obviously can't continue: I take the bowl away from her.
"Hey!" she protests desperately.
"Look, please. You're already in the red zone. Do you have something with you? A shot?"
Rosie is angry. She looks at me with a furious gaze and crosses her arms over her chest.
"This is important. I don't want you to have to go to the hospital."
"You're just as bad as Gabriel. He's always complaining too."
"Your dad’s just worried about you because he loves you very much."
"My dad isn't here."
"Yeah, I know. Well, he'll be here any moment and then..."
Speak of the devil. Exactly one second later, Gabriel opens the bathroom door and comes out. He's wearing only a white, tight-fitting towel wrapped around his hips while drying his hair with another towel at the same time. Rosie and I look at him while he stares at us both with surprise.
"What... what are you doing here?" he asks Rosie first, then looks at me. "And you? You're still here? I told you to leave so I could shower."
Oops! That's right. Now that he mentions it, I remember.
"I fell asleep again," I defend my presence, then present him with the little girl’s glucose meter. "Your daughter probably needs a shot; she had cereal."
"Hey, you can’t snitch!" she exclaims indignantly.
"And you let her?" Gabriel approaches us and takes the glucose meter from me.
"I didn’t even know you had a daughter, let alone that she was diabetic."
"I'll take care of it. You need to leave now," he dismisses me and takes the cereal box from Rosie's hands.
Without the milk bowl, she’d apparently eat the contents straight from the box.
"Can I take a shower first, please?" I ask with a sweet smile, hoping to be allowed to use the bathroom for a moment. "It won’t take long."
"What? No, of course not. I have to take care of Rosie now." You should have left long ago," he says, then turns to his daughter:
"What did your mom say?"
"That you should take me to school because she doesn’t have time."
"But school starts at 8."
Gabriel is annoyed, while I'm still standing there hoping to take a quick shower or at least use the toilet.
"Could I at least quickly..." I plead.
