I pause and check the living room quickly to make sure James is still asleep and then look back at the phone. “It was... interesting.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” she snaps. “I saw that look around to make sure no one's listening. Spill.”
I groan in frustration at her knowing my every move. “Last night we, uh, did things. But it was cut short when—”
“Stop right there.” She holds up her hand. “I need all the details on thethingsbefore you move on.”
“I am not giving you details on my sex life.”
“YOU HAD SEX?” she screams. “SHUT UP!”
“Would you stop screaming?! I did not have sex,” I say in a stern tone but whisper the word sex just in case James wakes up. “But he kissed me.”
“That hardly counts asthings.”
“Well, it led to other things,” I say.
“Ohh, spicy,” she rolls her eyes.
“He finger fucked me on the kitchen counter and ate me like I was his last meal,” I snap. “Happy now?”
“I am so happy!” She laughs. “But why don’t you sound happy about it?”
“Because I wonder if he's regretting it.” I drop my head into my hands. I proceeded to tell her about how he made me waffles and when he left for work his demeanor was very cold. I add about the brief exchange of text messages where he gave me one-word answers and how that’s not normally like him to be so short with me. “What should I do?” I ask.
“Why don’t you just ask him if everything is okay?” she says as she gives me a little shoulder shrug. She’s always the logical friend with the right answers. “He’s clearly battling some weird shit in his head. How did things end last night?”
“He got a phone call that James was sick and coming home.” I prop my chin on my hand. “So I got dressed and went to bed.”
“Wait, you just got dressed and left?” She gasps.
“I mean,” I pause. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
“That’s your problem right there. He probably thinksyouregret it.”
The thought of that stuns me for a second and I think back to last night and how we left things. When he got the phone call, I knew by the tone of his voice that something was wrong. James will always be number one and I will never try to interfere with that. I proceeded to get dressed and head in for the night so he could take care of whatever was wrong with James. I didn’tmean torun out of the kitchen.
“Fuck,” I mutter, running my hands down my face.
“Take a deep breath.” She sighs. “Just talk to him. I’m sure he will understand that you just wanted to give him space to figure out what to do about James being sick.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Kali.” I hear tiny moans coming from the living room. “Listen, I gotta go. James is waking up. I’ll call you later.” I hang up the phone quickly and pocket it to head to see if James is okay.
“Hey, buddy. You alright?”
“No,” he moans, “My belly hurts so bad, Ms. Peyton.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he throws up all over me and the couch. Thank God this type of stuff doesn’t bother me. I have sort of become immune to it after working with kids for so long.
“Oh, buddy,” I sigh sympathetically. “Let’s get you all cleaned up.”
“I want my mommy,” he cries.
Woah. His mom? I don’t know how involved she is in this situation, but since being here I haven’t heard him speak about her or go spend any time with her. My thoughts immediately go to what the history is between his mom and Thomas. I do know that there is something about being sick and having your mom there to comfort you. Moms always know exactly how to comfort a child in their time of need. I’m not his mom, but I am a female figure in his life that can comfort him in his time of need.
“I know I’m not your mom, James, but I can help you get cleaned up and snuggle with you, if you want,” I tell him as I remove his pajamas covered in vomit.
“I would like that a lot, Ms. Peyton.”
“James, can you do me a favor?”