“Meowpurrrr,” my daughter replies.
“You going to summer camp today?”
I pinch my eyes shut once more, causing a shooting pain in my right eye, as Lav meows in response.
Quick footsteps sound on the bedroom floor, and then Mabel’s in the doorway. “Oh, shit. Cricket?”
Cricket heaves the heaviest sigh I’ve ever heard. “Yeah.”
Mabel mouths a quicksorryto me, then joins me, squatting beside the tub on top of the shower curtain. “I’m Mabel. I run this place. And I’m so sorry we got our wires crossed on your arrival. Can I help you to the main house? You can finish your shower in my room. No one goes in there. Ever. Not even Aunt Pip. And we have cinnamon rolls and coffee this morning for breakfast if you’re hungry.”
“You—you offered to pay for my gas and hotels on the road,” Cricket says.
Mabel flashes a rare smile. “Great-Aunt Pip’s useless ass of a dead husband pays for everything around here. I’m merely the distributor of funds.”
“I didn’t stay at hotels,” Cricket blurts. “I slept in my car so—never mind. I just—it was so nice of you to offer. And to let me stay here. While I?—”
She pauses, her eyes starting to spill over as her voice wobbles.
Mabel touches her shoulder. “Here. Let me help you get something on so you can come join us in the main house.”
“She slipped and fell in the tub,” I mutter.
“No,” Mabel whispers.
It’s pretty obvious Cricket’s down, so I assume Mabel’s reaction has more to do with however Cricket went viral than it does with the fact that she slipped.
Cricket’s eyes gloss over with tears again. “I’m fine.”
The wobble in her voice says she’s not fine.
Mabel glances up at me. “You check her over?”
“Yeah.”
“Any concerns?”
“Not immediately. But keep an eye on her.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know when we’re out so you can get to the toilet.”
Mabel’s good.
If Cricket’s hurt, she’ll call me or take her to urgent care.
So I can go tend to my own wounds now.
Time to gather up my daughter.
And now I’m wincing as I turn my back to the women, giving Cricket more privacy. “Is there anyone at the house who likes kids right now?” I ask.
There’s a beat of silence.
Then—“Short-term or long-term?” Mabel asks.
“Lav and summer camp didn’t get along.”
“We’ll take her.”
