When he finishes and walks back over, I rub his back. “It’s okay, Noah. I think a shower, something to drink, and bed might help. I’ll grab you fresh clothes as soon as we get home.”
It hurts my heart to see him so miserable.
“Okay, Cora.”
By the time we get home and unpack, I’m dead on my feet. There’s no way I can go to work tomorrow.
Me:
Hey. I know it’s late, but Noah caught a bug from school. Puke everywhere. I won’t be in tomorrow. Can you finish cataloging for me?
Annie:
Gross. Keep your germs at home. Poor kid.
Me:
Yeah. It’s not pretty. I should be back on Monday.
Annie:
No biggie. Need anything?
Me:
Nah, stopped at the store, but thanks.
Annie:
Try to get rest too.
I can’t help but laugh at that. I don’t know how much rest I’ll be getting tonight. I grab a pair of shorts and a clean shirt for Noah. Heading back to the bathroom, I leave his clothes on the countertop.
“You good, Noah?” I ask over the sound of running water, biting back a grimace when he groans.
“Yeah. I’m getting out. Did you get me clothes?”
“Yep. I’m leaving them on the counter. Get dressed. I left a bucket by your bed just in case, but try to drink some water before you sleep. Okay? My door will be open if you need something.”
There’s silence for a moment, then a faint, “Thanks, Cora Bora.”
Hanging my head on the doorframe, I know he can’t see me. I take a deep breath and will myself not to cry. “You’re welcome, Needy Noah.”
Entering my room, I leave the door open as promised. Sitting on my bed, I pull my phone out to send one more text before I crash completely.
Me:
Hey, you up?
Matt:
Of course. I was hoping you’d text.
Me:
We just got home. Longest night ever. Stomach bug, of course.
Matt:
