Puck Pact: Chapter 26
“How’s it going?”
I grimace as I prop my phone on the bathroom counter and rip off my T-shirt. “Have you ever seen someone projectile vomit before? I don’t even know how that much vomit can come out of a child her size.”
Cassidy wrinkles her nose on the other side of the FaceTime call. “The poor baby.”
“I’m the one who got puked on. I’m the poor baby.” I pull on a clean shirt—the second one I’ve had to change into today, and re-twist my hair into a bun on top of my head. “She just keeps crying, saying her stomach hurts. I feel so bad.”
“I think you should call Krum. He’d want to know that his daughter is sick.”
“He won’t be able to concentrate at the game if he knows she’s sick. Hell, knowing him, he’ll charter a plane and fly it himself to come home.”
She nods, and I know she understands because Trenton would be the same way. “At least you have Annie there to help you.”
“That woman is a literal angel. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
An hour after Alexander left for Denver this morning, Giuliana spiked a fever and started throwing up. It’s scary seeing her like this, but Annie swears it’s normal for kids to get the stomach bug and that everything will be over by tomorrow.
“The kid has been clinging to me all day. The only time I’ve been able to do anything is when she falls asleep. I know she needs the comfort of her father, but I’m doing the best I can until tomorrow when he returns.”
“You’re doing more than enough just being there for her,” Cassidy says. “I’m really proud of you, babe.”
I swipe my phone off the counter. “All right, I have to get back out there. I’ll call you later.”
“Let me know if you need me to drop off anything to you.”
“I will. Thanks.”
I head back out into the living room and find Giuliana still asleep on the couch. Good, she needs to rest. I’m about to drop down into the recliner and take a nap myself when the sound of heaving echoes from the bathroom in the hallway.
No, no, no.
I bolt into the hallway and crack open the bathroom door to find Annie hunched over the toilet. “Shit, Annie. Not you too.”
She wipes her mouth with a wad of toilet paper and reaches up to pull the handle and flush. “You better get out of here before you catch it too.”
As tempting as that thought is…
“I can’t leave you like this with a sick kid. Come on.” I lean over and help her to her feet. Her skin is hot to the touch. “Get on the recliner, and I’ll bring out a garbage pail for you.”
She’s so weak, she doesn’t even argue with me.
I spend the afternoon making sure Giuliana and Annie drink enough fluids, checking their temperatures, and cleaning out their puke buckets. One of the mommy blogs I searched up said this should only be a twenty-four-hour bug, and that all I can do is make sure the they both stay hydrated.
When Giuliana wakes up from another nap, she crawls over to me and lays her head against my chest. “I miss Daddy.”
“I know, kid.” I rub soothing circles on her back. “We can watch him on TV soon. You can give him some good luck vibes through the screen.”
“Okay.” Her little voice sounds so sad, it breaks my heart. “Do you love him?”
My body stills at her question. “Who?” I ask, to buy me more time.
“My dad. Do you love him?”
“I care about him very much.” I pause, knowing that’s not exactly answering her question. “Why do you ask?”
She lifts her head up to look at me, with her rosy cheeks from the fever and her curls a matted, sweaty mess. “Because if you love him, and he loves you, then maybe you can be my mom.”
Oh.
I glance at Annie but she’s no help, passed out on the couch.
None of the mommy blogs prepared me for this.
“I, well…” I pause, trying to think of the right words to say as unease twists my gut. “Do you want a mom? Have you been sad that you don’t have one?”
She shrugs. “All of my friends have moms, so I think I’d like to have one. And you take care of me like their moms do.”
“Friends take care of each other too, you know.”
“Yeah.” She lays her head back down. “But I like you living with us.”
Affection squeezes my heart. “It was very nice of your father to give me a place to stay while my apartment is getting worked on.”
I want to remind her that this isn’t permanent. That I’m going to move out eventually. That her father and I aren’t going to live happily ever after.
But I can’t bring myself to burst Giuliana’s hopeful bubble.
Or maybe I don’t want to burst my own.
“I don’t have a dad,” I say, my voice low as I continue to rub her back. “And my mom wasn’t the nicest mom either. But I learned that it doesn’t matter what you call people. Mom, dad, brother, sister. The names we call them don’t matter. What matters is how they treat you. So, it’s more important to have good people around you who love and support you. Does that make sense?”
She nods. “I have lots of good people in my life.”
“You do.” I wrap my arms around her. “And I’ll always be one of those people, okay? Even if I don’t live here anymore, you’ll always have me.”
“Good.” Then she lets out a whimper. “Aarya, I think I’m going to—”
Warm liquid spews from her mouth onto my lap.
I close my eyes and blow out a breath.
It’s going to be a long fucking night.
Giuliana was able to keep down a few crackers with some applesauce for dinner while we watched Alexander’s game.
This is the longest she’s gone without puking, so I’m hoping she’s on the tail end of this wretched thing. I opted to sleep with her in Alexander’s bed in case she needs me in the middle of the night, and I sent Annie home so she could get some solid rest without being woken up by Giuliana.
It’s only nine o’clock on a Saturday night, but after the day I had, I’m wiped and ready to crash with a sick child, and two furry animals curled up at our feet.
My, how my life has changed.
But my phone buzzes on the nightstand and Alexander’s name lights up the screen. My stomach twists with unease, worried about how he’s going to react to me not telling him about Giuliana being sick.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.
Annie didn’t tell him either, so at least we’ll go down together.
I tiptoe out of the room so Giuliana doesn’t wake up, and swipe my thumb across the screen. “Hey, Big Man. Great game tonight.”
The smile falls from his face as soon as he sees me. “What’s wrong?”
Damn, this guy is good.
I flop onto the couch and scrub my face with my free hand. “Please don’t hate me, but Giuliana and Annie have been throwing up all day. I think they have a stomach bug.”
“What? You’re kidding. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I grimace. “I didn’t want to worry you before the game.”
He groans as his head falls back. “Stomach bugs are the worst. How are they doing now?”
“I sent Annie home so she could get a solid night’s rest. Giuliana is passed out in your bed with the animals. Her fever is down, and she ate some crackers for dinner. We’ll see how tonight goes.”
His eyebrows pull together. “I’m so sorry, Aarya.”
“Please don’t be sorry. Everyone is fine.”
“This isn’t your problem. Giuliana is my responsibility. I should be there with her.”
“Hey, stop. Don’t spiral. Shit happens. I have everything under control.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Was she asking for me?”
“She did, but I kept her in good spirits.” I chew my bottom lip. “We had an interesting conversation before.”
“Oh, yeah? What about?”
I scratch the back of my neck. “She may or may not have asked me to be her mother.”
His face falls. “Really?”
I nod. “I did the best I could, but it might be a good idea for you to have a talk with her.”
His eyes move somewhere off screen, and I know he’s retreating into his own head filled with anxiety.
“I used to wish that I had a dad like my friends did growing up. Hell, I wished that I had a mom like theirs too.” A humorless laugh escapes me. “I know how it feels to be on the outside looking in. To feel like you’re different from everyone else—like they’ve got a leg up on you because they have something you don’t.”
Alexander frowns. “Do you still feel that way?”
“I don’t think it ever fully goes away, the feeling like you’re missing out on something. The curiosity of what my life would be like now if I had a different family growing up. But there’s nothing I can do about it, so I remind myself that family isn’t the end-all-be-all in life. Finding amazing friends and building a life you love is important too.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I hate that Giuliana’s mother walked away from her.”
“But it’s better than sticking around and being a shitty mom.”
His eyebrows jump. “That’s a really good point.”
“I read a few articles about how to talk to your kid about a parent who walked out on them. I can send you the links if you want.” I laugh. “These mommy blogs have been really helpful.”
“Mommy blogs?”
“Apparently, all these moms get together on the internet and chat about motherhood. They post questions and everyone weighs in with advice and ideas.”
An amused smirk plays on his lips. “Why are you reading mommy blogs?”
I scoff. “Because I have no idea what the hell I’m doing over here. Everyone was throwing up today. It was like a scene out of The Exorcist. I wasn’t sure what was considered too high for a fever, or if I had to bring your daughter to the hospital. Last week when you were away, I had to Google, What happens if your poop is blue? because Giuliana showed me her turd and it was legit blue. Turns out it was blue because of the dye from the icing on a cupcake she had in school.”
Alexander squeezes his eyes shut as he laughs. “I’ve had to Google countless questions just like that. One time when she was two, she shoved a marble up her nose. I couldn’t get it out for the life of me, but I really didn’t want to sit in the hospital for hours with a cranky toddler. I found this post online that recommended sucking it out with the vacuum hose. Worked like a charm.”
“That’s ingenious.” I chuckle. “I’d love to see pictures of Giuliana from when she was a baby.”
“There’s a couple of albums inside the cabinet on the TV stand.” He tips his chin. “Go grab them.”
I crouch down and stack three photo albums in my arm, and bring them to the couch, scooting under a blanket and reclining the chair back.
I gasp when I flip open one of the covers. “Oh my God. She was so tiny.”
It doesn’t help that baby Giuliana is lying in her giant father’s arms in the photo.
“She was tiny,” Alexander says. “She came a week earlier than we expected. But the doctor said she was healthy. She was just ready to come out into the world. I’m so lucky I was there to see her the day she was born.”
I’m reminded by what happened after she was born, and my heart wrenches for the father who thought his baby girl was ripped away from him.
“Fucking Rachel.” My top lip curls in disgust. “Where is she now? I want to find her and hit her with my car.”
Alexander grins. “I was angry with her for a long time, but I’ve learned to appreciate her for what she did. She gave me the best gift in the entire world.”
My heart swells. “You’re a really great dad, Alex. I don’t think you hear that nearly enough, but it’s true.”
“Thank you.” The smile falls from his face. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m not there enough for her. This job takes me away a lot, and I hate missing things.”
“You’re here when it counts, Big Man.”
“She loves you, you know. I’m worried about how she’s going to react when it’s time for you to move out.”
The thought of moving out hits me like a sucker punch to the gut. I’ve made myself at home in this house, more than I ever thought I could be. I’ve fallen into the routine of Alexander’s life, got swept up in the whirlwind that is living with a four-year-old with real-life responsibilities. I went from having one-night-stands with strangers to reading bedtime stories to a little girl and five of her stuffed animals.
But I don’t miss my old lifestyle, and the idea of going back to it fills me with dread.
“I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we get there,” is all I can say.
“If I’m being honest, I like having you at the house too.” Alexander pauses. “I like coming home knowing you’ll be there. I like the smell of paint when you’re locked away in your studio. I like being able to see you before bed, and first thing when you wake up.”
Emotion lodges in my throat like a rock, making it hard to swallow. “I like seeing you without your shirt on.”
He laughs, low and raspy. “I know you do. I see the way you look at me.”
My cheeks heat. “I keep thinking about what we did in Greece, and on your bike.”
“Me too, beautiful.”
We stare into each other’s eyes, letting unspoken words fill the space between us.
“We should get some rest.”
I nod, not wanting him to hang up yet, though we’re both exhausted. “Okay.”
“Goodnight, wife.”
I smile. “Goodnight, husband.”
I look through the photo albums for a little longer before heading back to Alexander’s room to check on Giuliana. She’s passed out on her back, arms overhead, and mouth open. I lie on my side and watch her as she sleeps, too innocent and precious for this world. I want to be there for her, be a part of her life, be here as she grows up. I want to be everything she needs, everything she’s missing.
I just don’t know if I can be enough to fill that empty space inside of her.