Page 24 of The Archer and his Rosebud

Clothing removed, I bring her to my chest, hoping the skin-to-skin contact will settle her. She jerks and fights me for a few minutes, crying until my heart breaks. “I’ve got you, love. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’re okay.” I circle the room, bouncing her gently.

Eventually, her head drops against my shoulder. After another minute, she tucks her face into the curve of my neck. Her sticky hand lands on my bristled jaw, rubbing and patting like she’s found her personal sensory board. I chuckle at her exploration until Willa’s choked cough distracts me.

“Let’s check on momma, shall we?” I stroke my palm over Clem’s back and head for the bathroom.

Knocking, I push the bathroom door open while staying in the little hallway outside the door, taking in the sight of Willa leaning against the wall, her legs tucked beneath her, her body limp as a rag doll.

Brown eyes as swollen and pitiful as Clem’s meet mine. “Is she—”

“She’s fine, Will. I’ve got her.” Little fingertips find my lips as I talk. “What’s wrong? Okay, stupid question, I know. I mean, are you sick or…”

Willa’s body shudders, and she lunges for the toilet bowl, gagging. She’s nothing but dry heaves, and I’m helpless. “I think I ate something bad.” She rests her head against the wall again.

“Let me go lock my apartment and leave a note for Nolan, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

Her eyes close as she shakes her head. I ignore her.

“I’m taking Clem with me. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Willa hovers over the porcelain throne when I return less than five minutes later with my spare key, cell phone, and two sports drinks from my fridge.

“Please tell me you still have formula or pumped because this little one is barking up the wrong tree for milk.”

“Yeah, I…” Willa lifts her head a few inches, blinking. “Where’s your shirt?”

Stepping into the bathroom, I kneel by the sink and stroke my hand over her matted hair. “I sort of ran out of my place without it when you didn’t answer my texts or calls. You two scared the hell out of me, Willa.”

Her chin trembles. “I think I must have scared her awake when I jumped up dry-heaving and ran for the bathroom. I couldn’t stop puking. I couldn’t get back to her.” She presses her fingers to her lips like she might be sick.

“She’s fine, don’t get upset. You’ll make yourself sick again.” Grabbing a washcloth from the shelf over the toilet, I run it beneath cold water and tuck it under Willa’s hair on her nape. “Give yourself a few minutes. I’m going to feed Clem and see if she’ll fall asleep. I’ll be back.”

With a kinked neck,I wake, picking my head up from the back of the couch. A sleeping Clem lies on my chest and Willa’s head in my lap. I check the time on my cell, and we’ve been asleep for close to an hour. Hopefully Willa’s sickness has passed. There aren’t many things harder in parenting than vomiting when you have a baby to take care of.

Shifting to get a different hold of Clem, Willa groans. “Sorry.” She makes like she’s going to get up and I settle my hand on her back.

“Stay, you’re fine. Are you feeling a little better?”

“I think so.”

I should put Clem in her bed and help Willa into hers, but I’m too comfortable to walk away.

“Maybe I should go back to Michigan. I forgot to call Devin last night to hear how his first game was. I’ve barely talked to my mom in weeks.” She swipes a hand across her face. “I feel so alone. What if something had happened to me? I—”

“You’re not alone. I’m here.”

She rolls her head in my lap and stares up at me. “I’m not your responsibility, Archer. I can’t expect you to be able to come storming into my apartment whenever I need—”

I cut her off before she finishes that thought. “Plus, you have—what’s your boss’s name?—Rubyand her girls and the other teachers at the dance studio. You have school. I get that it seems impossible, but from what Devin says about you, you’re a rock star. You can do this. If I can manage to keep two boys alive, you’ve got this single mom gig down pat.”

“Not if I get sick like this again. I stopped at The Greenhouse and ate this tempeh Thai salad. My stomach was rolling within two hours. That’s got to be it, right?”

“Sounds like it.”

“God, I hate this diet. I just want normal food. It’s so expensive to find alternatives and takes forever to read labels and search for good-sounding recipes, and I know it hasn’t even been a month, but I miss cereal and cheese and chocolate and…” She flips over and buries her face against my thigh. “I’m the worst mother on the planet.”

“On the planet, huh?” I chuckle, and she groans into my leg. “Willa, you are doing the best you can. This little girl loves you, and she’s happy and healthy.”

“No.” Her head shakes, wiping a tear leaking from her eye. “Something is wrong. With the way I feel. With the way I feel abouther.”

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