“You must be doing something right,” she said. “Just go with it and don’t make it awkward. Sadie trusts you. She wouldn’t have asked you for help otherwise.”
There was that, at least. “I should just be happy she’s past the worst of it and well enough to even think about taking a bath.”
“Exactly—and she’s the first in the building to survive the virus,” Laura said. “This is big news. The girls are going to be over the moon.”
“It’s about as close to a miracle as it gets.” I shut off the water and dropped the bathmat in front of the tub, shifting it into place with my toe. “Thanks for the pep talk. I better get started.”
“No problem. Don’t forget to brush her hair when she’s done, too. I doubt she’ll have the strength for that.” I heard the affectionate note in her voice. “And Theo?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re such a cutie.”
I rolled my eyes. Just as I went to end the call, my phone died all on its own.
Mobile coverage had been dropping in and out while Sadie was sleeping off the virus. Sometimes for an hour. Once it had stayed down for half a day.
I slid my phone onto the vanity and returned to the bedroom.
She was sitting where I’d left her on the chair in the corner, shoulders turned inward.
“Ready?” I asked.
Sadie lifted her head, her features drawn, her skin pale. “Yes. I’m okay. Just tired.”
“Want to put this off until later when you’re feeling stronger?”Please say yes.
Determined, she shook her head and tried to get up, but her muscles gave way.
I rushed over to her before she could collapse on the floor. “Don’t do anything,” I said. “This isn’t the time to be getting all independent on me, okay?”
“Yes, Theo.”
“Music to my ears.” I lifted her from the chair and swung her into my arms, vowing to keep things light, despite how fragile she felt compared to when I’d first carried her up to my apartment.
“Can I brush my teeth first?” she asked as I nudged the bathroom door open. “My mouth feels like a petri dish.”
“We can do that,” I said. “Take a seat.”I lowered her onto the barstool I’d brought in from the kitchen, and she grabbed the edge of the vanity as if she couldn’t trust her balance.
Straight after I'd loaded her toothbrush with paste, she shoved it into her mouth as if she couldn’t get it in there fast enough.
Positioned behind her in case she needed me, I filled a glass with water and monitored her reflection in the mirror, taking in the hollows beneath her eyes, the stringiness of her hair. There were times I thought I’d lose her—especially when her coughing progressed to vomiting and her skin was searing hot—but she was still here. Still fighting.
Her fingers clutched the handle of the toothbrush, and she worked quickly as if her energy might run out any second.A beat later, her movements slowed, and she braced herself with her elbow on the vanity top.
“Too much?” I asked.
Sadie moaned in defeat. “My arm feels like cooked spaghetti. I hate being weak.”
I rested my hands on her shoulders, sweeping my thumbs back and forth over bones that were too prominent. “It’ll take days to recover. Don’t be too surprised if you still have no energy a week from now.”
She gave me a quick smile filled with toothpaste foam. “My own personal motivational speaker.”
I gathered her hair into a bundle and held it in one hand, blocking out the way she shivered and avoided eye contact with me. “Better than making false promises. Rinse.”
“Yes, Theo,” she said again, only this time with a sarcastic edge.
Sadie filled her mouth with water, then swirled and spat into the sink. “So much better,” she said, running her tongue over her teeth. “I don’t feel like the living dead anymore, at least from a dental point of view.”
