Truthfully, it would be easier to keep the two of them home. But she knew Mia’s class was already rehearsing for the fall festival and missing a day would put her daughter behind the other kids. She didn’t want her to have that disadvantage.
“Brynne is going to besomad.” Mia swiped her palms over her cheeks that were just as red as her feverish brother’s.
“I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“She won’t.”
Were kindergarteners really that unforgiving? Trinity had hoped they had a few more years before this type of drama was the routine. She thought all of that stuff started in junior high.
“Mom!” Liam cried out, only a second before making another telltale sound that wasn’t a cough this time.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
“Ewww, Liam just threw up.” Mia made a face but had apparently stopped crying. It was a small win Trinity would take.
“I know.” With the washcloth originally intended for his fever, Trinity rushed over to the couch to see her son sitting upright with the front of his pajamas soiled in the little amountof breakfast he had been able to consume. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. Let’s get you out of this. Mia? Can you get the big bowl from the kitchen?”
“The popcorn bowl?”
“Yes.”
She was able to help poor Liam shimmy out of his superhero pajamas mere moments before he retched again, but this time, Trinity had the bowl in place.
“Grandpa’s here!” Mia shouted in the midst of the cacophony. She hobbled over to the window to wave at Grandpa Joe with one shoe off, one shoe on.
Had it been fifteen minutes already? With all of the chaos, Trinity couldn’t be sure. This morning was turning into a disorderly blur. “Can you please open the door for him?”
“Grandpa!” The young girl had her arms wrapped around her grandad’s middle in a fierce bear hug before Joe even had a chance to say hello to the family. “Liam just threw up.”
“Oh no.” Joe’s sympathetic gaze landed on Trinity from across the room. “Poor buddy. That’s no good.” Then, moving like one unit with Mia still clinging to him, feet on top of his, he peered over the back of the couch to take in the pitiful seen. “What can I get from the store after I drop this little monkey off? Juice? Crackers?”
“Both would be great,” Trinity replied.
“Bottle of wine?” he teased.
“I sure feel like I could use one,” she laughed, straightening from her crouched position from cleaning up the mess. “Shoot. I haven’t gotten Mia’s backpack ready yet. Would you mind doing that for me? Her lunch is in the fridge and her homework is on the table.” She looked at her daughter who still only had one shoe properly on. “And her other shoe is under the kitchen chair.”
“On it.” Joe saluted his daughter.
This was where Trinity missed Calvin the most. Not necessarily in taking care of sick children but in the teamwork they shared to make their life function smoothly. He was the one who rose bright and early, crafting pancakes in the shape of hearts for Mia while Trinity had tended to Baby Liam on the couch, wrapped in a cherished quilt passed down through Calvin’s family. They had a synchronicity to their mornings, a dance where they knew each step by heart.
Of course, she was immensely grateful for her father’s help this morning, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing was, and that, she supposed, was the hardest part of it all.
An hour later, Joe had dropped Mia off at school, completed his run to the market, and returned to the house to stow the items in the fridge and tidy up. Liam had only gotten sick one more time during that, and at the present moment was getting some much-needed rest in his bedroom.
“What else can I do?” Joe asked eagerly once he’d gotten the place back in order. “Where can I help?”
“I’ve got this, Dad,” Trinity answered, not fully convinced that she did, indeed, have this.
“How about this? You go take a shower and get ready for the day while I just hang out here in case Liam wakes and needs anything.”
She couldn’t ask her father to do that, and yet, she hadn’t asked. He’d volunteered. “Are you sure?” A warm shower sounded like absolute heaven. “You don’t mind?”
“Your mother just has me running errands with her today, so I’m actually happy for the excuse to skip out on a trip to the yarn shop.” He looked at his daughter for a silent moment, something shifting in his gaze. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you, Trin? Because I am. So very proud”
She didn’t understand it—it wasn’t like she was getting any Mother of the Year award any time soon. More often than not, she felt like she was barely keeping things together. “What for?”
“Just how you’ve handled yourself over the past year. How you’ve pushed through. It’s admirable.”
