Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
She swallows and licks her lips, pressing them together for a moment before she announces, “I don’t think I’m going to be sick again. My tummy doesn’t feel bad now.” She glances down, shifting her soiled shoes back and forth. “But my feet are yucky. And they smell bad. Like scary music.”
I fight a smile as I consider that. “I think you’re right. I think scary music would smell like that. But you’re going to be fine, and so are your shoes. Let’s take them off and leave them right here.” I brush the worst of the mess away with the towel before levering her shoes off by touching only the clean parts by her heel. “Then, once we get you clean and in fresh clothes, I’ll tidy this up lickety-split. No stress.”
Her mouth turns down again. “Lickety-split reminds me of banana splits. And that reminds me of bananas, and I hate those bananas.”
“Valid,” I say. “I hate them, too.”
“I’m not supposed to say hate,” she whispers behind her hand. “Grammy says it’s a mean word. Especially if I say it about a person.”
“Your Grammy sounds very smart,” I whisper back. “But it’s okay to hate foods, I think. Especially if they make your tummy sick.” As I take her hand and lead her through the kitchen toward the living room and the stairs beyond, I ask, “Do bananas always make you feel sick?”
She shakes her head, her bottom lip starting to tremble.
Before I can follow up, Ava appears at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide. “Oh no, did Bella throw up again?”
My brows lift, but I fight to keep the “what do you mean again, what tomfoolery is afoot here?” from my tone, as I say, “A little bit. But she’s already feeling better. I’m going to run her a bath so she can get the yucky smell off. Want to be an amazing big sister helper and pick out some fresh clothes for her? I bet you’ll do a better job than I will since I don’t know where everything is yet.”
“Yes! I know where her clothes are, and I can do it all by myself! I know what she likes to wear when she feels sad.” Ava dashes away, calling over her shoulder as she disappears down the hall, “Don’t worry, Bella, I’ll be right back!”
“Thank you!” Bella calls. “I wove you, Ava.”
“I love you, too,” Ava shouts from inside the room at the end of the hall.
My chest tightens as I squeeze Bella’s hand. “What great sisters you are. Now, I wish I had a big sister when I was little even more.”
Bella shoots me another wobbly smile. “I wove Ava. She’s my best fwend. She always cheers me up when I’m sad, and my tummy gets sick.”
Poor button. Her lisp gets worse when she’s sad, too.
I wonder if her therapist knows about that? I read in the agency brief that the girls are in therapy after the death of their mom last year, but I have no idea how that’s going. Or if Bella’s anxiety is a recent thing or something she’s always dealt with.
Making a mental note to ask Dean about that if he decides not to sack me the second he gets home, I guide Bella into the first door on the right.
Inside the bathroom, a collection of rubber ducks line the edge of the tub, and a bucket of bath crayons sits on the floor, making it clear that bathtime is fun time in this family. I approve, and it makes me hope Bella will find a bath relaxing after her rough morning.
I set her on the mat and start the water while I help her out of her shirt. “So, does your tummy get sick a lot when you’re sad?”
She nods as her head emerges. “Yeah.”
Well, that would have been good to know up front, I think. Aloud, I ask, “Are you feeling upset this morning? Maybe about Grammy going back to her house?”
She nods, her gray eyes far too solemn for a soul who’s only spent three years on the planet. “Yes, that made me really sad.”
My forehead furrowed, I reach in, testing the water and making an adjustment to the heat before helping her out of the rest of her clothes. “I’m so sorry, honey. But it’s totally normal to be sad at times like this. It’s really tough when the people we love have to go away, even for a little while.”
“Yeah.” She looks down at her now bare feet. “Especially when they don’t come back sometimes.”
My ribs clutch so hard and fast that for a second, I can barely breathe.
God, this poor pumpkin. I can feel her pain. I really can. I know how it feels to have the most important person in your world ripped away when you’re just a baby.