Jackie was right about bedtime.
I stuff my phone in the middle pocket of my hoodie and lean over Rigsby. This time I’m not wasting time by tapping. I slide my arms around his waist and scoop him up like he’s a giant sack of potatoes, slugging him over my shoulder as I walk toward the bathroom.
On cue, he mumbles, “Is it morning already?”
“Yeah, bud.” I take a left into the small bathroom and set him in front of the sink. “Wash your face and get dressed. We’ll grab some bagels and coffee on the way to school.”
His brows bunch together, but his eyelids spring more open. “I don’t drink coffee.”
“Oh, yeah.” I spread a playful smile on my lips. “You should because it would give you a reason to get out of bed in the morning.” Pivoting, I turn toward the shower where I have his coat hung on the rail. We never made it back to the laundromat because it got too late. I was stuck washing his coat by hand in the sink. Just the thought of scrubbing out the vomit forces me to resist dry heaving.
Taking care of kids is quite disgusting.
I pull his coat down, checking it over for damp spots. It seems to be dry. It even has a nice fresh ivory smell from the dish soap I used since I was out of laundry soap. I usually buy the overpriced stuff at the laundromat, and it was too late to go back out.Apparently, I’m missing some sort of childcare checklist because I didn’t know I should restock my laundry soap before Rigsby came.
His coat is extra-fragrant though.
“Alright, bud.” I turn on my heel and head out to give him space. “Remember I need to get my glove. I haven’t the slightest clue what time she’ll be there. So, let’s hurry.” I toss a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure he’s in motion. Instead of reaching to turn the faucet on, his hand finds his stomach. His already chubby cheeks puff full of air as his eyes waiver into a bit of a cross-eyed stare. “Rigsby,” I say cautiously, “are you feeling okay?”
“Aw, I’m not sure.” He’s still as can be, looking as if he’s afraid of what’s about to happen.
“Do you need something to eat to settle your stomach? Maybe some juice?” I mentally take inventory of my fridge. Unfortunately, it’s not the most kid friendly. I’ve got energy drinks, sushi, and leftover Chinese takeout.
“Nah, I don’t want anything.” His face blanches to ashen. I fumble for my phone to text Jackie, but then pause as I remember I told her I wasn’t going to bother her. She’s more than likely getting induced at this very moment. She doesn’t need this situation on her plate too.
She never left me an instruction manual for this!
“What does your mom usually do when you feel like this? Do you go to a doctor or lie down?” I speak as my thumb hovers over my phone.
“She says I have a nervous stomach. Usually, she rubs my back and sings to me until I feel better.”
“Well, I’m not going to sing to you, and trust me, you wouldn’t want me to.” I glance at my medicine cabinet, but I don’t pause for long. There’s nothing in it but cold medicine. I have a stomach of steel and have never had this issue. “Uh, new plan.Let’s run to the drug store to get some Pepto-Bismol, before we meet that lady.”
“What lady?” His brows furrow, and his lack of urgency is grating on my nerves.
“I don’t remember her name,” I speak quickly. “It’s the gorgeous-but-oh-so-annoying lady from the laundromat who stole our machine.”
I reach my hand out to him, coaxing him forward. “Can you come with me if we walk slowly? I’ll bring a barf bag.” It’s not an ideal situation, but I must make it to that school. If he’s still ill when I get my glove, I’ll bring him back home, but at least I’ll have my glove.
five
Kaci
The sun peeks through the clouds, bringing a ray of optimism that I haven’t felt in days. Bella and I round the corner of our apartment building, en route to my assigned parking spot. My dream is to move to an apartment with a garage. More than likely a move won’t be possible until I finish school.
Bella skips beside me wearing her favorite jean skirt and her Hello Kitty backpack slug over her shoulders. She insisted she needed to wear a skirt today, even though it’s only thirty-five degrees. We settled on a compromise, and she put leggings underneath. She looks adorable with her braided pigtails and cheery smile, and, as always, she’s carrying Little B.
I’ve loaded up my giant mom purse with the book I need for class, a water bottle, snacks, and the hockey glove. I’m not sure when I should give up on fitting everything into a purse and swap it out for a duffel bag. At least for today, I’m making the purse work. I’m almost able to match Bella’s smile until I spot my car, and my heart sinks.
“Mom, look!” Bella’s index finger darts out, highlighting the very thing I’m staring at.
My back tire is flat.
It sometimes loses air from the cold, but this isn’t a low tire situation. This is my rim resting against the cement, and I’m not going anywhere with my tire like this. I don’t trust myself to put the spare on, so I’ll have to call a service guy to take care of it. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but of course, this is the one day I can’t be late dropping off Bella. We need to be early to meet the bus for her field trip.
As if reading my mind, Bella voices her worry. “What about my field trip?”
“Uh, we’ll get there.” I scan the parking lot for any neighbors who might be out and able to give us a ride to the school. It’s not that far, but it’s not something I’d attempt to walk in this weather.
