“She went to the store with Eli!” Kerry-Anne calls from the living room.
“Oh.” So that’s where Eli was.
“I heard Eli when he came to get Sam to go to the store. I was still in bed. I was nauseated, but not puking yet. Then I lifted my head, and it was downhill from there.” Aaron shrugs in a self-deprecating manner. “I’m feeling a little better.”
“As is evidenced by the fact that you can hold your head up now.”
He groans. “That was miserable.”
“Do you think you can keep down some meds now?”
“Maybe.” I hand them to him, and he takes them completely dry before I can even go and get him a drink. He looks down at his naked chest. “I feel gross.”
“Do you want to take a shower?”
He nods. “I sure do.”
“Do you need some help?” I have no idea what to do for him.
“You don’t have to. I can take my shower later.”
“I can help you, Eli.” I stand up, holding Miles securely in one arm, and go to the shower, turn it on, and adjust the water temperature. I jerk my thumb toward the tub. “Hop in.”
He climbs in, boxers and all, and sits down under the spray. Water fills his mouth and he spits it out. Then he does it again. And I realize that he’s just washing his mouth out.
“Here.” I hand him a clean washcloth and a bar of soap. He washes off really quickly. “Do you need help with your hair?” His hair was soaked with sweat when I got here.
He stares at me through one slightly open eye. The other is tightly closed. “Would you mind?”
Miles is calm now, so I go and get his bouncy chair, set it on the bathroom floor, and put him in it. He bats at the plastic toys that hang down in front of him.
I rest on my knees next to the tub and reach for the bottle of shampoo. As I squirt some into my palm, Eli says, “Still loving the duck jammies.” His gaze narrows in on my chest. “Are you wearing a bra?”
“No, so stop looking at my tits,” I snap. He jerks his gaze upward.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. But he’s grinning with mischief.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, you jerk.” I scrub his hair a little too hard and shove him back under the shower stream so he can rinse. He laughs lightly.
I turn off the water and sit back. “There,” I say, and I reach into the cabinet and retrieve a towel. These are the same monogrammed towels his mom used when we were kids. They’re threadbare now, but they bring up so much nostalgia that I still love them. I lift it to my nose and sniff. It smells like his mom’s linen sachets. “Can you get out by yourself?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
I pick Miles up and take him and the bouncy chair into the bedroom with me. I listen at the bathroom door as Aaron gets out of the tub. I find some clean boxers and a t-shirt in a drawer and toss them into the bathroom. He grunts out a thank you.
When he’s done, he stumbles to the bed and falls on to it, where he stares up at the ceiling. “I need your help, Bess,” he says.
“Well, that’s obvious.”
“No, I mean…” He rolls over and pulls the covers up to his chin. “I don’t feel well.”
I walk over and place my hand on his forehead, even though I know he doesn’t have a fever. I press a kiss to his brow, which is already shiny with sweat. “Go back to sleep,” I say softly. “I’ll take care of the kids.”
“You won’t hold it against me later?” he mumbles.
“Mmm…maybe a little.” I grin at him, though his eyes are closed. Then I kiss his forehead again, lingering there. “Sleep. It’ll all still be here when you wake up.”
His eyes immediately open and I see they are filled with tears even as he blinks them back. “Thanks, Bess,” he says softly, and he closes his eyes again.