Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Cora
I’m pretty sure I blew through three stop signs on my way to the fields. It’s been a while since Noah’s been sick, and with Matt mentioning a stomach bug, I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.
Pulling into the fields, I park my car and head over to where Noah is sitting in the grass, Dane at his side. There’s some space between them, but Dane has his hand lightly resting on Noah’s shoulder as if he’s offering comfort. As I approach, I see Dane gesture to him.
“Hey, Noah. There are easier ways to get out of practice,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
His gaze finds mine, making me wince at his expression. He looks so pale and sad.
“Hey, Cora. Sorry you had to leave work.”
“It’s no big deal. They were totally cool with it.” Well, everyone except Atlas, who I refuse to think about right now.
“Let me grab your bag for you, bud. We’re going to stop at urgent care real quick before we head home.”
Nodding, Noah stands, a bit wobbly on his feet. Matt blows the whistle and tells the kids to take a water break.
“Hey, Matt,” I greet him. “Thanks for calling me. I appreciate it.”
“Hey.” His smile quickly morphs to concern. “You didn’t get in trouble at work, did you? I know you just started.”
“No.” I wave off his worry. “They were understanding about it. No biggie. I’ll take him to urgent care, then head home. Thanks for keeping him company, Dane.”
“It’s fine. I already had the stomach bug, so I shouldn’t get sick,” he says matter-of-factly.
Matt sighs and shakes his head. “Go ahead and grab some water, then join the team,” he instructs Dane.
“See you later.” Noah waves.
“Sorry again,” Matt tells me.
“It’s fine, but we’re going to head out.”
“Text me when you guys hear from the doctor or get home. Feel better, Noah.”
Promising to message him, I guide Noah to the car. Handing him the small container I use for trash, I give him a sympathetic look. “It’s in case you get sick again on the way over.”
“Gee, thanks,” he mutters, but his face is still pretty pale, so I suspect he may end up using it.
During the drive across town, Noah ends up using it twice. Walking in, I throw it into the garbage can outside. There’s no way I’m keeping that in my car. After checking in with the nurse, she sends us to a room where we wait for what feels like forever.
Just as Matt suspected, Noah has a stomach bug. He’ll just be out a few days, but as I pull into the store for supplies, I know it’s going to be a rough weekend.
“You want to walk or climb in?” I offer Noah, gesturing to the cart. The glare he gives me in response is answer enough. “Okay, figured I’d check.”
Walking through the aisles, I grab sports drinks, soup, and a few extras.
I’m exhausted and stupidly wish I had someone to help carry the burden, just for once.
I don’t know why I do this to myself, but lately, the thought pops up more than I’d like.
As if the universe is reminding me that I’m alone in this with Noah.
Sure, I have the Morgans, but it’s not the same as having someone who is there for me too, not just Noah.
“I feel like crap,” Noah complains as we walk through the aisles.
“You look like crap,” I retort, earning a small scowl. “But don’t worry, apparently, it only lasts a day or two and then you’ll be right as rain.”
Tossing a few more things in the cart, Noah dutifully shuffles toward checkout next to me. He’s looking more miserable by the minute. I’m exhausted and running out of patience for today. It seemed like anything that could go wrong, did.
Standing with Noah at my side, I give him a brief smile and brush his hair off his forehead. There are only a few people ahead of us, so it shouldn’t take long.
An older woman, possibly in her early fifties, stands in front of us, holding mostly junk food. It takes everything in me not to laugh. I hope to still be enjoying my favorites when I hit her age. The cart is full of cookies, ice cream, soups, and chips.
Her gaze meets Noah’s, and she smiles at him. “I like your jersey. You must be quite the soccer star with cleats like those.” She gestures toward his feet.
He smiles but doesn’t say anything.
“He does pretty good,” I admit, thinking of his up-coming game. It dawns on me that tomorrow is his first game, and he’s going to miss it. Poor kid has been working so hard too.
“Your total is fifty-two dollars and eighty-four cents,” the cashier tells the lady as I put our things on the conveyor belt. I shake my head when Noah eyes the rack of candy. It’s the last thing he needs right now.
“Oh shoot. I forgot my card. Do you mind waiting just a minute?” the customer asks the cashier. “I parked right out front. It’ll take like two minutes.” Turning to me, she apologizes, “I’m so, so sorry. I should only be a minute.”
After watching her exit, I look at Noah, who’s getting paler. Shit.
I point toward the bathrooms, which are located near the checkout area. “Go!” I watch him run to the bathroom and pray he doesn’t slide on the floor in his cleats. I really need to get him slides or something for after practice.
Glancing toward the entrance, I don’t see the woman yet, and a few more people have joined the line.
“Here, I’ll pay. It’s no biggie.”
I tap my card on the terminal and smile at the cashier.
“Whatever.” He puts her bags into her cart and pushes it to the side.
Ringing up my few items, he gives me my total, and I tap my card again.
As I load the last bag into the cart, Noah comes out of the bathroom. My heart clenches when I notice how awful he looks.
“Come on, bud.”
He joins me as we head toward the exit.
“I’m here! I’m so sorry. I got a phone call and got so distracted!” the woman who was in front of me explains to the cashier.
“Your stuff was already paid for.” He shrugs, pointing to her cart that sits to the side.
“I don’t understand.”
“I dunno what to tell you,” the kid responds, pointing in my direction. “She paid for it, so you’re set.”
Her eyes turn to mine, and she takes in Noah’s pale face. “I’m so sorry,” she apologizes. “I didn’t think it would take but a minute. Let me pay you, please.”
I shake my head. “It’s no big deal. Just pay it forward.”
“I insist.” She walks next to me with her cart in tow.
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Enjoy your evening.”
I head to my car with Noah, who freezes before taking off for the shrubbery close by.
Sighing, I say a silent prayer for this vomit to be the last.
When he finishes and walks back over, I rub his back. “It’s okay, Noah. I think a shower, something to drink, and bed might help. I’ll grab you fresh clothes as soon as we get home.”
It hurts my heart to see him so miserable.
“Okay, Cora.”
By the time we get home and unpack, I’m dead on my feet. There’s no way I can go to work tomorrow.
Me:
Hey. I know it’s late, but Noah caught a bug from school. Puke everywhere. I won’t be in tomorrow. Can you finish cataloging for me?
Annie:
Gross. Keep your germs at home. Poor kid.
Me:
Yeah. It’s not pretty. I should be back on Monday.
Annie:
No biggie. Need anything?
Me:
Nah, stopped at the store, but thanks.
Annie:
Try to get rest too.
I can’t help but laugh at that. I don’t know how much rest I’ll be getting tonight. I grab a pair of shorts and a clean shirt for Noah. Heading back to the bathroom, I leave his clothes on the countertop.
“You good, Noah?” I ask over the sound of running water, biting back a grimace when he groans.
“Yeah. I’m getting out. Did you get me clothes?”
“Yep. I’m leaving them on the counter. Get dressed. I left a bucket by your bed just in case, but try to drink some water before you sleep. Okay? My door will be open if you need something.”
There’s silence for a moment, then a faint, “Thanks, Cora Bora.”
Hanging my head on the doorframe, I know he can’t see me. I take a deep breath and will myself not to cry. “You’re welcome, Needy Noah.”
Entering my room, I leave the door open as promised. Sitting on my bed, I pull my phone out to send one more text before I crash completely.
Me:
Hey, you up?
Matt:
Of course. I was hoping you’d text.
Me:
We just got home. Longest night ever. Stomach bug, of course.
Matt:
I figured. When Dane had it, it was vicious. Brace yourself.
Me:
Of course it was. Thanks for letting Dane hang out with him.
Matt:
As if you could keep those two apart.
His comment makes me laugh, but he’s not wrong. They’re one more incident away from being separated in class next year.
Me:
I’m going to head to bed, but I hope you took Noah out of rotation for tomorrow.
Matt:
Sure can. Is there any way I can help?
It feels like a loaded question. Matt is such a nice guy, but his eyes aren’t the ones that I see when I close my eyes.
Me:
No, but thank you. You’re sweet.
Matt:
Not that sweet. *Winky face emoji*
Me:
Goodnight, Matt. Good luck tomorrow.
Matt:
Night, Cora. See you soon.
Tossing my phone on the bed, I head to the shower and wash away the day. I check on Noah one final time and find him asleep, bucket unused next to his bed. Thank God for small favors.
Crawling into mine, I try to fall asleep.
I’m beyond exhausted, but thoughts of a certain dark-haired, tattooed man linger.
I let myself imagine what it would be like to have his arms wrapped around me as he tells me to go to sleep, that he’s got the first shift to check on Noah.
I would attempt to argue, but he’d kiss my forehead and demand I rest.
Snorting at my ridiculous thoughts, I adjust my pillows and turn on my side.
That sort of relationship isn’t in the cards for someone like me. If my own parents couldn’t love me more than drugs and alcohol, how could I expect anyone else to? Those types of thoughts are better off in my dreams.