Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Shoot,” I mutter, feeling utterly helpless.
“I’ve got a view of the bathroom door from here, Dad,” she says, then like a play-by-play announcer, she narrates what’s happening downstairs. “Oh my god, Sabrina is so strong. She’s carrying him across the hallway and back to the living room.”
My throat tightens with emotions as I picture her taking care of my little guy. “Tell Sabrina to call when she can,” I say gently. “I love you, Luna.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
A little later, as I’m walking back to the hotel in the rain, every cell in my body on high alert, my phone rings once more. It’s Sabrina, and I answer it immediately. “Hey, how’s it going?”
“He’s okay. I think he feels better now that he’s thrown up a little bit. He’s actually curled up under a blanket on the couch right next to me, sound asleep. Oh, and Drama is right here with him too. She’s purring on his neck. It’s okay that she’s here? In the house?”
“Of course,” I say instantly.
“She has to go back next week to Little Friends. For her final vaccine and then her spay. But for now, she’s being a little nurse kitten,” Sabrina says, cheery and chipper, like she’s trying to make me feel better about Parker being sick.
“Does he need to go see a doctor? Does he need anything? Do you need anything? Some meds? Cough syrup? Dinner? I can send you all that right away. An appointment at the doctor?” I hope she says yes to something, anything.
“Actually, we went to urgent care when I picked him up from school. They had an appointment right away, and that’s when they said it’s probably a twenty-four-hour bug. I texted you as soon as we left urgent care.”
“Oh,” I say, stopping under the awning at the hotel. Parker’s the kind of kid who rarely gets sick, and on the odd occasions he has, I’ve always been around. I never felt more useless in my life. Or more grateful. “Thank you for doing that.”
“They said there’s really nothing to give him. It’s just a virus, but it tends to run its course pretty quickly,” she says.
“Can I get you something? Something for dinner? I don’t want you to think about cooking or even zapping anything in the microwave right now.”
“I’m sure there’s some food in the house,” she says. In the background, a voice calls out, “Dad, I love those sandwiches from Happy Cow.”
I laugh.
Sabrina does too. “Luna won’t venture downstairs, but she sure doesn’t miss a thing,” she says with a laugh.
And it feels like we’re sharing a smile over the way we know my daughter so well.
I go ahead and I place an order for some sandwiches and some Gatorade, and then some crackers for when Parker is feeling better. I send a note along too—just for Sabrina.
I can’t tell you how much it means to me to know you’re there.
—T
Then I try not to gnaw my leg off with worry.
I do my best to put my worries out of mind as we battle Seattle in a rough, physical game the next day, jostling for control of the puck every second it seems. I’m slammed into the boards nearly as many times as I shove the team around. But we trudge off the ice with a hard-fought win, and as soon as I’m in the visitors’ locker room, I text Sabrina.
Tyler: How is he? How’s Luna? How are you?
Sabrina: Parker stayed home today, of course, but he’s doing so much better! No more barfing, and he’s been fever-free without meds for nearly twenty-four hours, so that’s good!
My shoulders relax.
Tyler: Thank god. And Luna?
Sabrina: That girl has some serious germ avoidance skills! She’s practically sealed herself in a bubble since yesterday. She’s all good.
I breathe a huge sigh of relief as I sink down on the bench in front of my stall.
Tyler: Thank you so much for taking good care of him.
Sabrina: It’s the job. Glad I could do it!
I wince at those two words—the job. It’s the truth. Of course it’s the job. But it’s a reminder, too, that I have my work cut out for me. I made her feel like she’s only my employee. I’ll need to show her when I return home that she’s so much more, even if it’s not the time to articulate exactly how much. For now though, I shower, put on my suit, and head to the jet, grateful this was a short trip and I’m on my way home.
We land in San Francisco in the evening and I jump into my car and drive home. But when I pull into the garage, I spot my mother’s car parked on the curb. I check the time. It’s nearly nine. That’s odd. I didn’t think she’d be here at this hour. It’s a little late for a pop-in.