Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
From the kitchen, I spotted Javier standing in the living room with Aleesa in his arms. He walked back and forth with her, shushing her, trying to calm her. His hair was tousled, his face tired, and when his eyes found mine, I saw the stress wearing around them.
“What happened?” I asked, rushing through the kitchen to meet him.
“She woke up crying. When I went to her room, she was holding her stomach. She says it hurts.”
“Like a stomachache?” I asked, rubbing circles on Aleesa’s back.
“Possibly.”
“Aww. It’s okay,” I murmured to Aleesa. She reached for me, and Javier willingly handed her over, relief immediately sinking into his body.
“Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve come over when she woke up.”
“I did not want to interrupt your morning. She woke up around five, and we have agreed you officially start at seven on the days I am here. That would have been a breach of your contract, no?”
“Thoughtful,” I said as I rocked Aleesa, “but I’m happy to get up for emergencies. I don’t consider those breaches.”
“Okay. I just did not want to cross boundaries.”
“I understand.” I offered him a smile, hoping it would calm some of his nerves. “I’m here to help take some of the burden off of you, Javier. I’m here for Aleesa, yes, but I’m here to help you too. Always remember that. Okay?”
He nodded, then sat on the edge of one of the sofas, elbows landing on his thighs and his face dropping into his palms. Pushing his hands upward, he raked his fingers through his full head of dark hair.
“I am sorry,” he said. “I am just . . . so tired. Last night’s game went into overtime, and I had to speak to the media. It is very hard some days . . .”
Aleesa had calmed down, her head now resting on my shoulder as she sniffled and shuddered.
“It is hard. I get it.” I watched him a moment as he stared at the floor. He looked so sad, so . . . lonely. My heart hurt seeing him this way. I hoped he realized he wasn’t alone. “Have you given her any medicine for the stomachache?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay. No worries. I’ll take care of it. And listen, don’t be too hard on yourself. This is a regular thing for toddlers,” I assured him. “Could be that she’s constipated and can’t poop, or maybe she found an old Fruit Snack under her bed and ate it. You really never know with kids, so don’t stress too much about it. And if it feels like too much for you, just call me next time. I mean it when I say I’m here to help.”
He pressed his lips, giving a quick nod.
I turned away with Aleesa to go to the pantry for the medicine basket. There were all kinds of things stored inside it. Tylenol, Benadryl, Motrin, cough syrups, gas tablets, vitamins. I came across the tummy-ache-relief medicine and grabbed it. I carried her to the island counter, placing her on top of it so I could open the box.
She stared at me, lips pouty and eyes damp.
“No feel good, Tava,” she said in a fragile voice.
That little voice broke my heart.
“I know, angel. It’s okay.” I rinsed out the measuring cup. “We’re going to take this”—I poured medicine into the cup—“so it will make you feel better. It tastes like grapes. You like grapes, right?”
She wiped her eyes. “Yes.”
“Good.” I gave her the cup, and she brought it to her lips and drank it down. I took it away, rinsed it out, and replaced the medicine in the basket. It was still a bit early in the morning, and I could sense she was tired. Aleesa wasn’t an early riser, so she could use another hour or two of sleep, I was sure.
I scooped her off the counter, carried her to the sofa, and laid her down. She wasn’t having that, though. She crawled onto her dad’s lap and snuggled into his chest instead.
He held her close, and I offered him a blanket.
He covered her delicately, as if she were a newborn, tucking the blanket between her chin and shoulder, then making sure her bare feet were covered.
I went to the kitchen and fiddled around, unsure what to do now. This was the first time Aleesa had been sick since I had been hired. She’d had a couple of accidents here and there and the sniffles, but nothing that had made her feel like she felt today.
Most Saturday mornings I spent time getting ready for the day, doing her hair, taking her for walks or to the park, going grocery shopping, or letting her ride her tricycle in the courtyard.
It didn’t help that my mind was still racing from that email from Luther. Aleesa would have been a welcome distraction from his bullshit. I could feel myself getting worked up about it again and my anxiety spiking, so with my back to Javier, I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths while counting to ten.