Juked (16 page)

We’re guys. I know how to entertain him.

Once the washer is going, and I know the baby is still entertained, I check on Quincy again.

The water is still running, but she’s still not responding to me calling her name. Yes, I’ve seen her naked, and in many, many different positions. Thinking about it even briefly gives me a hard-on.

I also know women can be a little more modest when they’re sick, and I’ve been trying to respect that, but now that we’ve been here for a while, and she’s still not done showering, my desire to respect her modesty is over.

“Quincy,” I say again as I push through the bathroom door. “Are you okay, babe?”

I hear a moan from the shower and peak behind the curtain. She’s crumpled on the floor, holding her knees to her chest. The water is lukewarm, which is a good thing, but it’s obvious she’s thrown up again. Maybe more than once. That’s
not
a good thing.

I quickly strip out of my clothes and climb in with her.

“Daniel,” she says quietly as I shift her away from the spray of the water. “I don’t feel good.”

I smile. “I know, baby. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

Despite the water temp, she’s still burning up. I thank my lucky stars flu shots are a team requirement. I don’t do sick well, and this looks worse than normal.

I quickly make sure any remaining soap from her attempts at washing are rinsed off, and that she didn’t accidentally get vomit in her hair. Once I’m satisfied with my efforts, I shut the water off and pick her up, carrying her out of the bathroom and down the hall to the living room. Snagging a bath towel on my way past the rack, I make a mental note to clean up the water I’m dripping everywhere. Normally I would make sure not to leave water footprints on the carpet, but there’s not a lot I can do until I have her settled on the couch.

As I lay the towel down and her on top of it, I look over at Chance. He not smiling, but he’s not frowning either. More like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on with his mom… er, aunt… er…. I really need to ask what he calls her.

“She’s okay, buddy,” I say to him as I get a flat sheet from the linen closet to drape over her. No point in using a blanket with a fever this high. “She just doesn’t feel well. She’ll be better tomorrow.” When she doesn’t respond to him, he quickly loses interest and goes back to smacking some light-up toy.

Ten minutes later, I’m dressed, the bathroom is cleaned up, and my mom is on her way with homemade chicken soup. She swears it’s the cure for the flu, and frankly, I’m starving, so we’ll take it.

I sit next to her on the couch, medicine in hand. Her cheeks are flushed, and her skin looks clammy. I wish I could say she looks beautiful, but she looks more miserable than anything. “Baby, can you open up and take this for me?”

She turns her head to look at me and opens her mouth after I help her sit up. She coughs after taking the medicine, and I encourage her to drink some Gatorade.

“Where’s the baby?” she asks weakly as she lays back down.

“Right there.” I nod toward Chance as I tuck the sheet in under her arms so she’s covered up but will still stay relatively cool. She looks over at him and smiles.

“Hey, little man.” He grins widely and starts running again. Oh yeah. He misses her. “What are you doing all the way over there?”

“Babe, did he get a flu shot? I don’t want him to get too close to you while you have a fever.”

She swallows, eyes closed. “He got one when he got his six-month shots. I didn’t want to take my chances with day care.”

“But you didn’t get one.”

“I don’t go to day care.”

I kiss her on the forehead. “Good point. I’m going to get a cool rag. You hang out here with him.” I drag the baby, still in the ExerSaucer, closer to the couch. By the time I’m done, they are already reaching for each other.

I can’t help but feel good about how much progress they’ve made since the first time I met them. They’ve really bonded in the few months since she took custody. If I didn’t know the situation, I would assume she’s always been his mom.

My phone rings as I pull a washcloth from the drawer.

I swipe my finger across the screen and bring it to my ear. “Hey, Geni.”

“Hello, handsome,” she says in a flirty tone. If we hadn’t spoken multiple times over the past couple of days, I might be concerned she’s trying to move in on her best friend’s territory. But my gut tells me she’s a harmless flirt. “How’s our patient doing?”

“Not well,” I admit as I get the washcloth wet. “I found her sick in the shower.”

“Sick as in—”

“Yep. All over the bottom of the tub.”

“Ew,” she says. “Glad it was you there and not me.”

I laugh. “I’m sure you are. Hopefully she’ll feel better by morning, but I can pretty much guarantee you she’s going to need the whole week off.

“I figured as much. I already started cancelling the rest of her appointments. As long as she has a fever, I don’t want her anywhere near me!”

I chuckle. “You didn’t get a flu shot either?”

“Oh I did,” she says. “But you know why she didn’t, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Apparently they guess what strain of flu is going to be active each year and make the vaccinations accordingly. She’d rather spend twenty bucks on going out than on a flu shot.”

I pick up the now wet washcloth and make my way back over to the couch. The medicine and thermometer are still sitting on the end table where I left them this morning. “Quincy,” I gently nudge her awake. “Quincy, baby, put this under your tongue. I need to take your temperature.”

“Awwww!” I hear coming from the other end of the phone. “You’re so cute with her! Did she do it? Did she listen to you?”

“Yep,” I say as I hold the thermometer in one hand and put the washcloth down on her forehead with the other. “Taking her temp right now.”

“Are you spending the night again, lover boy? Or do I need to come relieve you?”

Her question gives me pause. I know I should want Geni to come over and relieve me as soon as she can. I mean, I have to work again tomorrow. And we’re just dating, not in an official relationship or anything. But strangely, I don’t want to leave her like this. I want to stay and take care of her and the baby. It’s a strange feeling. “Uh… I think we’ll be okay for one more night. I have an out-of-town game this weekend, so I definitely can’t stay past tomorrow.”

“I’ll take over for you starting tomorrow night. Will that work?”

“Perfect.” The thermometer beeps, and I pull it out of Quincy’s mouth. She settles in on the couch again as I read it out loud. “One oh two point seven.”

“Damn,” Geni says.

“I gotta go. I need to get some more medicine in our girl and feed the baby before my mom gets here with dinner.”

“Your mom is bringing you guys dinner?” Geni sounds overly excited by this tidbit of information.

“Her chicken noodle soup.”

Geni laughs. “Quincy is gonna kill you when she’s coherent enough.”

“Why?”

“Your mother meeting her for the first time when she’s got the flu, and she looks like death? Oh, Daniel. You really haven’t dated in years, have you?”

I snort a laugh. “She’s gonna have to get over it. Yes, she looks like death.” Geni laughs again. “But this boy needs to eat, and there’s nothing my mom loves better than taking care of a sick person. This will totally buy Quincy brownie points with her.”

“Whatever you say, lover boy. Now go take care of my girl.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up. Quincy barely opens her eyes when I give her Tylenol and Motrin, but Chance makes it clear he’s not happy he’s still waiting for dinner.

“Okay dude, what’ll it be?” I ask him as I look at the jars of baby food on the counter. “You can have squash or mixed vegetables.” He lets out a frustrated squeal as the doorbell rings. “I know. Those choices suck. I’ll look for bananas in a minute.”

I lift him out of the ExerSaucer and go to the front door. He gets his mitts on my nose again. “You’re starting to make me feel self-conscious,” I say to him. “Is it really big enough for you to get your uncoordinated little hands on all the time?” I swing the door open. “Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, mijo.” She whisks through the door, shoving a tote bag full of food at me and snatches the baby out of my hands. “
Mi chiquito
! How are you, baby boy? Daniel, put that in the kitchen.”

She vaguely gives me instructions on how to finish preparing the food, busy getting wet, slobbery baby kisses from a very squeally and happy baby.

“Since you’re having so much fun in abuela-mode, can you put him in his high chair and give him some dinner?” I would offer to feed him myself, but I know my mother. Once a baby is in the room, the rest of us may as well not exist.

“Of course, mijo,” she answers nicely. I’m not fooled. She’s not doing it to help me. She’s doing it to spend more time in baby-land.

After putting hot soup in a mug, I return to Quincy. She still feels feverish but nothing like she did a while ago.

“Hey, baby,” I say, pushing her bangs off her forehead. She stirs a bit. “I need you to sit up.”

“Hm?” she asks, barely cracking her eyes open.

“Let’s sit you up for a minute,” I say, helping keep the sheet in position over her. If it was just me, I’d let it fall, but I don’t need my mom accusing me of doing it on purpose so I can get an eyeful. She knows me well enough she just might. “I need you to drink some of this.”

“What is it?” she croaks. “My throat really hurts.”

“I know, baby. It’s my mom’s famous soup. She swears it’ll cure you.” I wrap her hands around the mug and help her lift it so she can take small sips. The first couple of sips are slow going, but once she gets a little of the broth in her system, she easily finishes the whole thing. “Good. We’ll see how you hold that down. You lay down again and rest some more.”

“Okay,” she says, eyes closed and already snuggling into the pillow.

I turn around to go back to the kitchen and my mom is standing there with a strange look on her face.

“What?” I cock my head.

She grins at me. “You like her.”

I crinkle my brow. “You already knew this.”

“No, mijo,” she says, grinning even wider. “You
really
like her. I haven’t seen you act like that with someone since, well, since you ended up with your sister at the hospital the day she had Vanessa.”

I purse my lips and walk past her to the kitchen. “She’s sick, Ma. She has no one. What else was I going to do?”

She makes a noise in the back of her throat like she’s disagreeing with me. I try to ignore her as I dish out some soup for myself, but she makes it almost impossible.

“You fed her and you kept her covered out of respect for her.”

I pick up a spoon from the drawer and try to dismiss her claims. “I didn’t think she’d appreciate you seeing her half-naked before you’ve been formally introduced.” I pull out a soft carrot and blow on it before putting it on Chance’s tray. He eyes it skeptically before doing his best to pick it up, but the carrot keeps getting away.

“You really like her,” she says, coming around the counter and putting her arms around my waist. “There’s nothing wrong with that, mijo.”

I relax and hug her back. “I know, Mama. We’re just hanging out right now. Being friends and dating. Don’t get all excited.”

She pats my cheeks. “Just don’t hurt her,” she says and walks away.

Why does everyone keep saying that to me?

“I
’m so glad I got my flu shot,” Geni says over the sound of her clippers. “You looked terrible.”

“Uh-huh.” I pretend to ignore her and sweep the hair from my last client into a pile on the floor. Geni’s been making it a point to lecture me all week about how dumb it was not to get vaccinated. Never mind that it’s the only time I’ve been sick the entire five years I’ve known and worked with her.

“I’m serious,” she says. “I’ve never seen you look so bad. You’re lucky Daniel was there to—”

Her voice is drowned out when I start up the vacuum to get rid of the hair. The timing doesn’t go unnoticed by her, and she glares at me. I glare right back.

“I’m just saying,” she says as soon as the noise dies down, making me huff in annoyance. She’s not going to let this go. “It’s a good thing Daniel was there to take care of you. I don’t know how I would have been able to do it without him. Don’t you think it was dumb for her not to get her flu shot?” she asks her client, Mike.