Quinn finishes wiping Lily’s face and folds the washcloth. “When did it start?” she asks Sarah.
“Lily didn’t want any dinner,” Sarah replies. “She said she didn’t feel well, so I put her on the sofa and fetched the sick bucket. I barely made it to her in time. I called you right after that.”
“Poor darling.” Quinn strokes Lily’s hair. “Does your tummy hurt?”
“It did, but I throwed up and it’s better.”
“Can I touch it?”
Lily nods and lies back. Quinn gently presses her abdomen. “Does this hurt?” she asks. Lily shakes her head. Quinn repeats the press-and-question sequence several times, without discovering any tender spots.
“It’s probably a stomach bug,” Sarah says. “It’s been going around.”
“I hope your twins don’t get it.”
“Oh, Lily probably got it from them,” Sarah says ruefully. “They were sick last week. If it’s the same thing, it lasts about twenty-four hours.”
“Do we need to take her to an emergency room or a doc-in-the-box?” I ask.
“I think we just need to take her home,” Quinn says.
“I’ll give you some Pedialyte and Children’s Tylenol,” Sarah said. “That’s what the twins’ doctor said to give them.”
“And I can call her pediatrician if she gets worse,” Quinn says. “I have the number.” She turns back to Lily. “Let’s get you home, sweetie. Can you stand up?”
Lily sits up, slowly stands, and then sinks back on the sofa. “The room feels all wobbly.”
“Do you want me to carry you to the car?” I ask.
“Yes, please,” Lily says. She holds up her arms, her eyes so trusting that my heart melts. I pick her up. She seems to weigh practically nothing.
Sarah bustles to the kitchen, the twins following her like loud, raucous ducklings. Quinn goes with her and washes her hands.
“Here’s the Tylenol and Pedialyte,” Sarah says, placing the bottles in a grocery tote. “I’m putting in some paper towels and a plastic bag in case she gets sick in the car. Better safe than sorry.”
“Good thinking,” Quinn says as she dries her hands. “Thanks.”
“And here’s her book bag. And Sugar Bear.”
Quinn takes the bags and the stuffed animal, and heads for the front door. “Thank you, Sarah. I really owe you.”
“Just take care of Lily, yourself, and that baby.” Sarah gives her a hug. “You don’t need to get run-down and sick yourself.”
“Will do,” says Quinn.
I carry Lily down the porch steps to Quinn’s car. Quinn opens the back door. I gently settle Lily in the safety seat and fasten her seat belt.
Quinn pauses by the driver’s door and looks at me. “Thanks for everything,” she says, as if this were good night.
“I’ll follow you home,” I say.
She hesitates. I’m afraid she’s about to tell me,No, thanks. I’ve got this. “You might need help getting her into the house,” I say. “And I can run to the store to stock you up on extra Pedialyte or anything else you might need.”
I can see her weighing things. “Okay,” she says, her eyes grateful. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Quinn
