Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
T rinity pressed the back of her hand against her son’s forehead, even though it wasn’t necessary. Just looking at his tomato-red cheeks was enough to diagnose the low-grade fever. That, coupled with his uncharacteristic silence and lack of appetite during breakfast easily clued her in. Liam was sick.
The maternal side of Trinity ached for her child. It was never fun to see your little one under the weather. But the business owner portion of her sighed internally. She would have to fire off a text to Rachel to let her know she wouldn’t be in today. They had a stack of orders to fulfill, and a delivery of flowers and filler coming in around noon that would need to go straight into the cooler. Typically, that was a two-person job. But Rachel could handle it. She’d been working at Joyful Blooms just shy of two years now. Still, Trinity never liked to leave her coworker in a lurch like this—shorthanded and overwhelmed.
But sometimes, there were things you just couldn’t plan for, and a sick kiddo was one of those unfortunate occurrences.
“Grandpa’s coming by in ten minutes to take you to school, Mia!” Trinity hollered down the hall toward her daughter’s room, her hands cupped around her mouth to project her voice. More like fifteen minutes, but Mia was notoriously slow in the morning, taking her precious time to dress, brush her teeth, tie her shoes and all the other tasks that went into their school routine. “I’ll get your backpack ready.”
Leading Liam away from the breakfast table where his scrambled eggs and toast remained largely untouched, Trinity settled him on the couch with his beloved blanket and a morning cartoon. As she pulled the fabric up under his chin, she noticed his flushed face and decided against covering him completely. “Let me grab a cool washcloth for your forehead, honey.”
Washcloth. Backpack. Tidy up the mess in the kitchen. She made a mental list of her tasks, interrupting herself to send that text to Rachel before she got too caught up in her chores.
But before she could tap the button on her phone, Mia burst into the living room.
“I can’t find it!” she screamed, a wild look in her eyes that reminded Trinity so much of Calvin. The man was far from even-tempered; his emotions were always intense, and life was very big for him. Sometimes, Trinity wondered if that was the reason she could still feel him so strongly, because he’d lived so passionately.
“Can’t find what?” Trinity’s eyes flashed toward Liam when he barked out a single cough.
Pick up cough syrup from the store , she added to her mental tally.
“I can’t find the best friend’s necklace Brynne gave me.”
“We can look for it after school.”
What was I about to do? Trinity couldn’t remember why she was suddenly standing in front of the linen closet. It was like her feet had taken her there without her brain prompting her movements.
“I have to wear it today !” Mia’s eyes welled with tears that looked like they could spill at any moment. She was barely holding it together. “She’ll think I don’t want to be her best friend if I don’t wear it. She’ll find another.”
“I’m sure you can just explain to her that you misplaced it and that you’ll wear it tomorrow.” Reaching out, Trinity opened the cupboard, hoping the items inside might jog her memory. That’s right—the washcloth.
“This is terrible!” Mia’s hands shot into the air and the tears began to tumble down her cheeks, rolling down her quivering chin. “I’m not going to school. I can’t.” She sniffed at the same time Liam let out another jarring cough.
“Yes.” Taking her daughter’s small shoulders into her hands, Trinity swiveled Mia toward the chair where her sneakers were already positioned, ready for her to slip her feet inside and tie on. “You are going to school.”
Truthfully, it would be easier to keep the two of them home. But she knew Mia’s class was already rehearsing for the fall festival and missing a day would put her daughter behind the other kids. She didn’t want her to have that disadvantage.
“Brynne is going to be so mad.” Mia swiped her palms over her cheeks that were just as red as her feverish brother’s.
“I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“She won’t.”
Were kindergarteners really that unforgiving? Trinity had hoped they had a few more years before this type of drama was the routine. She thought all of that stuff started in junior high.
“Mom!” Liam cried out, only a second before making another telltale sound that wasn’t a cough this time.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
“Ewww, Liam just threw up.” Mia made a face but had apparently stopped crying. It was a small win Trinity would take.
“I know.” With the washcloth originally intended for his fever, Trinity rushed over to the couch to see her son sitting upright with the front of his pajamas soiled in the little amount of breakfast he had been able to consume. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. Let’s get you out of this. Mia? Can you get the big bowl from the kitchen?”
“The popcorn bowl?”
“Yes.”
She was able to help poor Liam shimmy out of his superhero pajamas mere moments before he retched again, but this time, Trinity had the bowl in place.
“Grandpa’s here!” Mia shouted in the midst of the cacophony. She hobbled over to the window to wave at Grandpa Joe with one shoe off, one shoe on.
Had it been fifteen minutes already? With all of the chaos, Trinity couldn’t be sure. This morning was turning into a disorderly blur. “Can you please open the door for him?”
“Grandpa!” The young girl had her arms wrapped around her grandad’s middle in a fierce bear hug before Joe even had a chance to say hello to the family. “Liam just threw up.”
“Oh no.” Joe’s sympathetic gaze landed on Trinity from across the room. “Poor buddy. That’s no good.” Then, moving like one unit with Mia still clinging to him, feet on top of his, he peered over the back of the couch to take in the pitiful seen. “What can I get from the store after I drop this little monkey off? Juice? Crackers?”
“Both would be great,” Trinity replied.
“Bottle of wine?” he teased.
“I sure feel like I could use one,” she laughed, straightening from her crouched position from cleaning up the mess. “Shoot. I haven’t gotten Mia’s backpack ready yet. Would you mind doing that for me? Her lunch is in the fridge and her homework is on the table.” She looked at her daughter who still only had one shoe properly on. “And her other shoe is under the kitchen chair.”
“On it.” Joe saluted his daughter.
This was where Trinity missed Calvin the most. Not necessarily in taking care of sick children but in the teamwork they shared to make their life function smoothly. He was the one who rose bright and early, crafting pancakes in the shape of hearts for Mia while Trinity had tended to Baby Liam on the couch, wrapped in a cherished quilt passed down through Calvin’s family. They had a synchronicity to their mornings, a dance where they knew each step by heart.
Of course, she was immensely grateful for her father’s help this morning, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing was, and that, she supposed, was the hardest part of it all.
An hour later, Joe had dropped Mia off at school, completed his run to the market, and returned to the house to stow the items in the fridge and tidy up. Liam had only gotten sick one more time during that, and at the present moment was getting some much-needed rest in his bedroom.
“What else can I do?” Joe asked eagerly once he’d gotten the place back in order. “Where can I help?”
“I’ve got this, Dad,” Trinity answered, not fully convinced that she did, indeed, have this.
“How about this? You go take a shower and get ready for the day while I just hang out here in case Liam wakes and needs anything.”
She couldn’t ask her father to do that, and yet, she hadn’t asked. He’d volunteered. “Are you sure?” A warm shower sounded like absolute heaven. “You don’t mind?”
“Your mother just has me running errands with her today, so I’m actually happy for the excuse to skip out on a trip to the yarn shop.” He looked at his daughter for a silent moment, something shifting in his gaze. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you, Trin? Because I am. So very proud”
She didn’t understand it—it wasn’t like she was getting any Mother of the Year award any time soon. More often than not, she felt like she was barely keeping things together. “What for?”
“Just how you’ve handled yourself over the past year. How you’ve pushed through. It’s admirable.”
What was the alternative? It wasn’t like she had any real choice other than to suck it up and do her best. And most days, her best felt woefully below average. Still, she could plainly see her father’s admiration, and it was something that she appreciated as a daughter.
“Thank you,” she accepted the compliment, however undeserving of it she felt.
She moved into his embrace, noticing for the first time that morning how strained her muscles had felt, how rigid her frame seemed to be. She’d been in pure survival mode and had yet to release an actual breath.
“I’m going to go take that shower.” Stepping back from her father’s arms, Trinity glimpsed the dampness on his shirt where her face had been pressed. As she touched her own cheeks, she was startled to find them wet. Was she crying? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d shed a tear without realizing it. After Calvin's passing, she often awoke to find her pillow soaked with tears she had no recollection of shedding.
If Joe noticed, he let his daughter have this small moment of vulnerability and didn’t mention it.
The shower was heavenly, just as Trinity had hoped. There hadn’t been a time in recent days when she’d been able to take one without rushing, knowing she couldn’t leave her children out of sight for long. She would try to complete her morning routine before their alarms would sound, but that didn’t always work. Liam was an early riser, and despite being instructed to stay in his room until his digital clock had a seven as the first number, he often made his presence known loudly and persistently. Mia would sleep until noon if allowed, reminding Trinity of her own affinity for sleep, but she’d been a teenager when she’d stayed in bed that long. Sometimes, Trinity would worry that her daughter’s behavior was a sign of depression. Had she been a heavy sleeper like this before Calvin passed? Trinity honestly couldn’t remember.
She stayed in the shower until her skin had wrinkled and the water turned tepid. The big mirror over the sink had fogged up, steam making it impossible to see her reflection without a good swipe from the bath towel.
She paused. Was this what she looked like? When was the last time she’d glimpsed herself in the mirror like this? She looked significantly older, the wrinkles around her eyes deeper than she remembered them. She wasn’t haggard by any means. There was still youthfulness in her face, but some of that joy that had always made her look so fresh and radiant was gone. She wondered if she’d ever get it back.
After going for comfort with a cozy cranberry colored sweater paired with well-worn denim, Trinity finally emerged from the oasis of her room. Joe was on the couch and Liam was sitting beside him, engrossed in a picture book filled with trucks and tractors.
“Hey, you,” he said, looking up from the book. “I got this little dude to drink half a glass of water. If he’s able to keep that down, I promised a popsicle.”
Trinity’s dad had been the one to care for her whenever she was sick as a young girl. Her mother had been the breadwinner in the family with her job as a mountain home realtor, and while Joe was a handyman by trade, he stayed at home until Trinity was old enough for school. But he was always the one to pick her up, attend field trips, chaperone school dances, and coach her soccer team. He was more hands-on than any other fathers she’d met, and she loved that he continued to be equally as involved with his own grandchildren.
Liam suddenly reached for the cup of water, eager to down it so he could move on to the sweet treat.
“Not so fast, buddy,” Joe said, commandeering the glass. “We need to give it a minute.”
Trinity paused, cherishing the precious scene unfolding before her. Gratitude was an emotion she felt daily, and today was no different. What would she do without the people God had placed in her life? It was a question she couldn’t answer, and she was immensely grateful she would never have to find out.
Approaching the couch, she nestled herself next to her dad, placing her head on his broad shoulder while her young son snuggled up on his other side.
“Have I told you lately how much I love you,?” she asked, her voice soft with affection.
“Every day,” he replied with a smile.
And that was one thing Trinity vowed to continue doing—letting the ones she loved know just how much they meant to her. Because as she’d learned the hard way, you never knew when one of those I love you’s might be the last.