Page 20 of Stables

It’s so hard not to cringe away, but she’s surprisingly gentle.

“I’m okay, baby. Thank you for being nice.” Gripping her palm, I kiss it before tugging her over. She’s a little warm again, so I measure out a dropper of Tylenol first.

At least she isn’t trying to wrestle with me this morning. I’m not sure I’d have the strength to win.

Getting her changed and buttoned back up, I help her slide off the bed so she can follow me down the hall.

Crap. I forgot to clean up the spilled medicine last night. I was so tired after her bath, we pretty much went straight under the blankets.

“Hold on, honey.” I try to get a hold of her before she toddles onto the linoleum. Knowing her, she’d run directly to the sticky puddle.

But it isn’t there.

The red mess is gone.

Dr. McCullough?

He didn’t have to do that. It was already a huge thing that he came to my house to check Paisley.

Giant.

Almost as big as he is.

He filled my tiny bathroom. I’m pretty sure his shoulders touched the wall and the counter at the same time when he squatted down. Strangely, it didn’t make me nervous being trapped in there with him.

Almost comforting.

It helps that he’s easy on the eyes.

Well. If I could see out of both of mine, that would be great.

Damn, he probably thinks I’m a train wreck.

Libby: I’m almost done. Caramel latte or vanilla?

I love how she doesn’t even ask if I want one. She knows me so well.

Me: Surprise me!

Libby: How’d last night go?

Me: Better than expected, but Paisley got a fever.

Libby: Oh no! Do you need me to pick anything up?

Me: No. Dr McCullough came by and took care of it.

Libby: WHAT? I’m on my way.

I can just imagine the look on her face. I bet her big blue eyes are popping out of their sockets over my last message.

My phone beeps again, but I leave it sitting on the counter while I make myself some breakfast. While splitting a small jar of homemade applesauce with Paisley, I start pulling out the can of coffee to start a pot.

Wait, if Libby’s bringing some, I don’t need to make any.

There’s a secret part of me that loves tea more, anyway. This morning I’m looking forward to a cup of chamomile to soothe some of the aches and pains.

Reaching up into the cupboard stops me.

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