Page 23 of Under the Mistletoe

“I can’t be sick.”

“Clearly, you can.”

“No... That’s not what I meant,” she groaned. “My job is about to start. I don’t have a tree yet, and all my decorations are piled up in the garage. I just don’t have time for this.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Now, stop your whining and just breathe for a bit.”

She let out a defeated sigh as she continued to hug the toilet. We stayed there a good while longer, and when the nausea seemed to pass, I asked her, “You think you could make it to the sofa?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

I helped her to her feet, and after she’d rinsed her mouth out, I led her down the hall to the living room. Once she was settled on the sofa, I pulled a another blanket over her. “Hold tight. I’m gonna go grab a few things.”

“It’s okay. I can call Mom and...”

“I’m already here. I’ve got it covered. Just give me a minute.”

To my surprise, she didn’t argue. Hell, she didn’t have the energy to. All she could do was just lay there and try not to pass out. I went into the kitchen and grabbed all the things she’d used to help Ava, then carried them to her in the living room. When I placed the clean bowl on the coffee table, she cracked open one eye and muttered, “You need to go.”

“You can stop with that. I’m not going anywhere.” I placed the ginger ale and Pepto on the coffee table as I scolded, “You should’ve let someone know you were sick.”

“I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. You need me, then call. End of discussion.”

“Hm-hmm.”

“That’s more like it. Now, get some rest. I’m gonna go check on Ava.”

“Wait.” She eased up on the sofa as she fussed, “No, I can?—”

“Beck,” I cut her off, my voice firm. “You’re not winning this one.”

For a second, I thought she’d argue, but then she eased back on her pillow and let out a tired sigh. “Okay. But if she asks for me?—”

“I’ll let you know,” I said, softening my tone. “Now get some sleep.”

I left the living room and went to find Ava. When I got to the end of the hall, I found her in her room, sitting on the floor. She looked up at me with narrowed eyes and asked, “Where’s my momma?”

“She’s not feeling good and went to lie down for a bit.”

“Oh.”

“I’m just checking to make sure you’re good.” She just sat there looking at me like I had three heads, so I asked, “Can I get you something?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Okay. I can scrounge you up something to eat. How about some eggs or some toast?”

Her nose crinkled with disapproval as she shook her head no.

“How about some cereal?”

Another shake of the head.

“A grilled cheese?”

With that, her eyes lit up, and she nodded with excitement.

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