Chapter 17 #2
“Fuck,” I say, sitting up and crawling back to her.
I call over my shoulder, “Hey, when did you give her meds?” Before she can answer, it occurs to me that Skye has been here the whole time, yet Sunny was throwing up, no Skye in sight, when I walked in.
“And why was Sunny in here alone, throwing up, while you were tucked away in your room?” I’m stressed and concerned, but lashing out at Skye won’t help anything.
Skye steps from her doorway across to the bathroom, her joking demeanor appropriately tucked away in lieu of sympathy and chagrin. “The last dose was about an hour ago? And I had my earbuds in. She took her medicine and went to take a nap, so I didn’t expect her to need me.”
“She’s nine, Skye. You can’t just tune her out when she’s sick.” Sunny has stopped gagging at this point, but she hasn’t yet left her perch. Her face is once again buried in her folded arms, but she’s resting on the toilet seat rather than her knees.
She mumbles into her arms, “Stoooooooooop. Please. I just want to go to bed.” I continue rubbing her back, still frustrated but knowing she’s right. Bickering with Skye isn’t helping anything.
Sunny looks up and whines, “Do I have to drink chalk again?” Good question, kiddo.
“Erm, actually, hold that thought.” Sliding my phone out of my back pocket, I hit Mom’s contact and wait for her to pick up. Skye is still leaning against the bathroom door frame, eyebrows furrowed in concern and what I assume is remorse.
“Hi, honey. How is everything?” Mom asks, thankfully sounding like I’m not interrupting anything and she’s free to talk.
“Hey, Mom. So, uh, Sunny caught a stomach virus at school and she’s been throwing up off and on all day.”
“Oh, dear. Is she alright? Have you or Skye caught it yet?” Shoot. Didn’t think about that. Let’s hope we don’t.
“I think she’s ok? She’s running a bit of a temperature and like I said, throwing up, but she basically just told us to shut up so her personality is still intact.
” Now who’s the one trying to suffuse humor into things?
Sunny rolls her eyes at me before sitting back and pulling her knees close to her chest again, once more folding her arms over her knees and burying her face.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from my girl. Do you need me to come down? Is that why you’re calling?” I know she’d hop into her car and be here tomorrow if I asked, but I really don’t think that’s necessary.
“I appreciate the offer, but we’ve got it.
I called because Skye says she took some meds about an hour ago, but then she started throwing up again like…
” I look at Sunny for a timeline, but she just shakes her head into her arms. “I don’t know.
Let’s say twenty minutes ago, tops. I’m trying to figure out if I should give her more Tylenol or not. ”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. Have her lie down with an ice pack on her forehead. Make sure she has a bowl nearby so she isn’t constantly up and down to the bathroom every time she feels sick. You can give her more Tylenol at the recommended follow-up time, but not before.” What would I do without her?
“That, I can do. Anything else I should know?” I ask, planning to get as much information as possible now so I don’t have to call back. I’ve been Sunny’s mom pretty much her entire life, so calling my own mother because I don’t know how to treat a stomach virus in my own kid is pretty embarrassing.
“Keep her hydrated, and don’t hover. You know how she hates that.” Yes, I definitely know that.
“Got it. Thanks, Mom.”
“Anytime, honey. Give Sunny and Skye my love. And let me know if you need anything else. Love you,” she says in her comforting, sweet voice.
“Love you too.” I hit the end button and slide the phone back into my pocket before reaching up to the vanity and pulling myself to stand.
“Good news, kiddo. You won’t be taking any more medicine for a few hours yet.” I try to infuse excitement into my tone, but it falls on uninterested ears.
“I just wanna go to bed,” she groans, but doesn’t make any move to get up from the floor.
I turn to Skye and say, “You want to tuck in the patient or find an ice pack and a bowl?”
“Supplies. On it,” she responds and heads to the kitchen.
I squat and gently grip Sunny’s arms under her biceps to help her up and to her bed. “C’mon Sunshine. You’re just a few steps away from a dark room with a fluffy pillow.”
“Sounds like heaven,” she says as she trudges to her bedroom.
Have I mentioned how much I love being a parent?
And my mom thinks I need a man in my life. I’ve seen my dad in man-flu mode — the guy becomes useless for days and mom suddenly loses a partner and gains another child.
With Sunny down for what is hopefully a few-hour nap, I head to the kitchen and see Skye pouring a sports drink into popsicle molds. “Well now, that’s pure genius.”
She grins and nods her head. “I know, right? This is what my mom used to do when I was sick. Cools down the throat and replenishes electrolytes at the same time. Two birds, one stone.”
“Are you here for the rest of the day?” I ask, leaning my hip against the cabinet.
“Yeah, I’m staying here. I’ve been in close proximity to the puke monster so I’ll probably skip tomorrow as well just to make sure I didn’t catch the same thing.” Skye sets the filled popsicle molds in the freezer and says, “I’m going to take a nap.”
I nod at her and then take advantage of the quiet and use the downtime to shower and change into pajamas before opening my laptop to work on a paper that’s due next week. As soon as I open my inbox I see an unread email from Dexter.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Checking In
Alis,
Deborah let me know you won’t make it to our meeting today. No worries. I’ve attached a list of upcoming assignments and grading deadlines for each.
I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. Please let me know if I can bring you anything to help. I’ll see you next week for our Wednesday meeting.
Cordialement,
D. Belanger, PhD
Associate Professor of French Language and Literature
Middle Peak University
Please let me know if I can bring you anything to help.
Two things cross my mind as I read this.
1) So much for being professional, and 2) Does he actually mean that, or is the offer akin to asking “How are you?” when you only expect the person to say, “Good! How are you?” I’m fairly certain having a professor offer to bring his grader soup or meds to her home is outside the strictly professional boundaries we’ve established, so it’s safe to assume the offer is rhetorical.
Should I respond to him? Of course; I need to acknowledge receipt of the list. I’ll just ignore the other part of his email. Better not to address it than to make things awkward.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Checking In
Dr. Belanger,
Thank you for sending the list. I’ll get to work on those assignments ASAP.
See you next week.
Alis
There we go. Short, to the point, but not necessarily rude.
I have a hard enough time not wanting the man when he stays within the professional boundaries we’ve set.
If he starts blurring those lines now I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to resist him.
We’ve been working together for just over a month and a half, and with every interaction the forbidden fruit that is Dexter Belanger becomes more appealing, damn the consequences.
Thankfully, Skye has stopped hounding me about him — whether that’s because I stopped bringing him up or because she’s preoccupied with something else, I don’t know.
She’s driven home four out of the last six weekends to stay with Tori.
Something is going on there, but Skye has been tight-lipped whenever I bring it up.
Skye isn’t usually so cryptic, but nothing else about her seems off so I haven’t yet pressed for more information.
“Hey there, daydreamer. You okay?” Skye’s question snaps me out of my wandering thoughts and I realize I’ve been staring blankly at the turned-off television for who knows how long.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking.” I give her a soft smile before returning my focus to the laptop. Skye walks around the coffee table and plops down on the couch next to me, bowl of cereal in hand.
“Thought I wanted a nap. Turns out I actually want Lucky Charms.” I look over at her as she slurps her first bite and ask, “Brunch of champions?”
Mouth still full of half-chewed cereal, Skye says, “You know it.” I’m thankful milk didn’t spurt out of her mouth when she opened it to speak.
“You’re gross,” I tease. “Every time you talk with food in your mouth, you lure Sunny one more step toward your pubescent behavior patterns.”
Skye swallows and smiles. “She’s nearly a tween anyway; I’m just meeting her in the middle. You’re too much of a grown-up to guide her into adolescence. Truly, I’m doing you a favor.”
I shake my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
Skye lays her head on my shoulder and blinks up at me with puppy dog eyes. “But you love me.” It’s true. I do love her. I wouldn’t have been able to move so far away from home and finish grad school without her.
She sits up and grabs the remote on the couch armrest. “You cool with me watching TV in here?”
“Yeah, no problem. I’m just going to work on some grading for Miller until Sunny wakes up. Thanks again for your help with her today.”
“I told you, it was no trouble. That’s why I’m here. I know she’s technically your kid, but she’s mine, too. She has two moms at home!”
Skye’s eyebrows shoot up and she sits up straight, excited by whatever thought just popped into her head.
“Ooooooooh you know what? That’s how Sunny can rise in the ranks with her friends!
She’ll be the coolest girl in school if she’s the girl with two moms. Her friends don’t need to know we’re friends without benefits — we’ll be the cool, up-with-the-times, lesbian parents and all those kids will wish their parents were as cool as Sunny’s. ”
I close my eyes and rub my forehead. “How in the world do you come up with these ridiculous ideas? And also, why would Sunny need to ‘rise in the ranks’? She’s made friends at school. She doesn’t need a popularity boost, nor does she need to lie to get people to like her.”
Skye laughs and elbows my ribs. “I was joking, dummy! See, this is what I mean. You are too grown up for your good. You can’t even recognize a joke when it’s right in front of you.” I roll my eyes at her before turning my focus back to my computer.
Skye squeezes my thigh and wiggles my leg. “Oh, come on, party pooper. Are you upset that I don’t really want to be your lesbian lover? Don’t get me wrong — if I was into chicks I’d be all up in your business, but right now I’ve got my eye on someone else.”
That gets my attention. “What? Who? Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?”
A smirk plays across her face. “He’s nobody right now. Just an enigma who crosses my path each morning at the coffee shop.”
“An enigma, you say?” Skye is typically great at reading people, especially men, so for her to consider him an enigma is a definite change of pace.
“Yeah. I don’t know that I’m interested in him in the ‘fuck me, please’ sense, but I definitely want to figure him out. He’s a suit — so not my type. And he shows up every morning between 7:27 and 7:30 a.m. Like a robot or something. Never fails.”
“Never?” I look at her, questioningly.
“Not since I’ve started working there,” she replies.
“I wish I had that much discipline with time management. Maybe then Sunny could show up to school with matching socks once in a while.”
“Life’s too short for matching socks.”
“You’re right,” I concede. “But hey, be nice to Mr. Suit. He obviously likes his routine considering he sticks to it so diligently. Resist the temptation to trip him up. It never ends well.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Skye waves me off, then turns back to the TV so she can catch up on whichever reality show she and Sunny are currently following.