I’ve fallen into a routine of finding her curled up on the couch, a giant jug of water in hand, and Gilmore Girls playing on repeat in the background. She loves it so much that I’ve covertly been watching it in my room at night, trying to catch up to her current season. Today though, I came home to pervasive silence, and she’s not on the couch where she typically lays.
“D?” I holler into the condo, to no response. I check the kitchen and balcony, to no avail, before heading towards her bedroom. Her door is cracked, but the room is dark and full of the same silence that’s greeted me elsewhere in our home. I knock, and gently call out, “Darcy?” Still, nothing, so I push in and see her small form curled up in the middle of the bed under her favorite, purple and fuzzy blanket.
“Hi.” She’s quiet, sounding dispirited.
“What’s going on Mama?” I ask, approaching the bed and sitting on the edge beside her, placing a hand gently on her forehead to make sure she’s not running a fever.
“I’m just really tired and the vomiting gave me a migraine,” she mewls.
“Can I do anything? Have you eaten?” Side-eyeing the very full water jug on her nightstand, I know she’s possibly dehydrated—especially if she’s unable to keep her water down.
“I just woke up. I had some eggs and toast this morning, but then I fell asleep. ” Fuck. It’s been almost nine hours. It’s hard when eating makes her nauseous, but I don’t want her passing out when I’m not around. I’m going to have to get the girls over here while I’m at work.
“Can I get you something? Maybe some chicken soup? Or rice? A banana?”
“Mmm, soup sounds good.”
“Be right back.” I gently squeeze her leg. “Try to drink some water, please.” I’m down the hallway and pulling a can of soup from the pantry in a dash. I pull out my phone while heating the soup on the stovetop. I call Harley first—her school schedule offers her the most free time, but her voicemail greets me. I try Sinclair next, saving Kodi for last. It might be hard for Kodi to manage both Arabella and Darcy.
“Tatum, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Sin’s silky, smooth voice comes through the phone.
“I need to call in a favor. Darcy’s nausea came roaring back, she’s been prone to migraines. When I got home from work today, she hadn’t eaten since this morning. Please tell me you’re off the next few days and can come sit with her while I’m gone?” Metaphorically or not, I am not above getting on my knees and begging Sin to help me with Darcy.
“You’re lucky she’s one of my best friends. I was supposed to spend the next few days resting and hopefully getting some action,” She jeers, her tone laced with aggravation.
“Well, I tried Harley, but she didn’t answer. I think it would be too hard for Kodi with Bella running around. Plus you’re the nurse, so she’ll have to listen to you. I will pay for you to get a massage every month for the next year, Sin, please.” I stir the soup in the pot, noticing it’s beginning to boil. I turn to grab a bowl with my phone tucked in between my ear and shoulder. I pour it into the bowl before carefully making my way towards Darcy’s room. “I’m bringing her soup as we speak.”
“Whoa, you care about her don’t you?” Sin, of all people, is the one to call me out but, at this point, it no longer matters. I do care about Darcy and I do intend to make her mine if or when she’s willing to give herself to me.
“I do.”
“What time do you head in tomorrow? Try to focus on getting her fed and bathed tonight then just let her rest.”
“Around ten in the morning, it’s a pretty light day.”
“Perfect, see you then.”
“Thanks again, Sin.” With that, she hangs up and I push Darcy’s door open. She’s sitting up now, head resting against the headboard, her eyes half open, with purple bags making them appear sunken in.
“Here ya go, D. Try and eat some. I’m going to start you a bath.” She takes the bowl from me and begins slowly but surely eating it as I enter her bathroom. I haven’t been in here since she moved in. Inside, her vanilla scent is overpowering, an array of beauty products lies skewed across the counter, and a bright pink hairbrush sits on the counter with blonde hairs intertwined between the bristles. She’s added a fluffy rug in front of the counter and another aqua one sits in front of the shower. The shower curtain is patterned in tiny disco balls and ghosts wearing cowboy hats. I move it to the side and turn the faucet on, testing its warmth before plugging the drain. Peeking under her cabinet, I find Epsom salts that I throw in along with some of the bubble liquid she has sitting on the edge of the tub. I don’t want the bright bathroom light on for her, so I grab a candle and lighter sitting on the back of her toilet, letting its soft flame illuminate the bathroom.
“Your bath is ready.” I exit the bathroom and see the soup bowl is empty, sitting on the bedside table, but she has laid back down—the cool rag I brought in earlier draped over her eyes as she gently rubs circles over her temples.
“I can’t.” She sniffles.
I can’t believe I’m about to offer this especially after my cock was in my hand about twenty feet away from here last night so seeing her naked is probably the last thing I need to do right now.
“Would you be okay if I lifted you?”
“You don’t have to do that. I can just shower when I’m feeling better.”
“I know, but I want to. I think it may help, especially now that you’ve eaten.”
“Ugh, fine.” She reluctantly lifts herself to a sitting position, swaying a little. “I’m too light-headed to argue.”
I step towards her, placing one arm around her back and the other under her legs, and carry her into the bathroom. I stand her on her feet, helping her stay steady as she pulls her shirt over her head. I keep my eyes firmly focused on the little freckle she has above her left eyebrow.
“I need you to take my pants off, Tatum, because I don’t think leaning over right now is the right move.”
