Presley
After being let into the building by the security guard, I knock on Dominic’s front door, armed with a bag of tried-and-true holistic medicine: electrolyte drinks, ginger ale, and saltine crackers. My mother always took such good care of us when we were sick, so I made sure to pick up the necessary ingredients for a settled stomach at the store before I arrived at Dominic’s building.
When I was standing in the grocery store aisle, comparing prices, I remembered I don’t have to worry as much about the cost anymore. I can afford to buy the organic stuff . . . something I’ve never done before. If I were buying for myself, I would have probably gone generic as usual. But for Dominic’s girls? I got the best stuff I could find.
Francine answers the door when I arrive. She is pale as a sheet and gives me a wan smile. “Hello, dear.”
“Hi. I’m here to take over,” I say with a sympathetic nod.
“I hoped as much.” Sighing, she looks positively exhausted as she opens the door and leads me down the hall. “I’m not feeling well myself. I should get home and rest before I make matters worse here. Dominic won’t be happy to find both his girls and an old lady green in the face when he comes home.”
“He just wants to make sure everyone is okay. Including you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have called me.”
Fran gives me a look that says I’m not so sure about that.
I mean, why else would he have called me? I know where his apartment is, and he trusts me with his daughters. After thinking it through, I swallow. I guess that is kind of a big deal.
She smiles warmly at me before she picks up a large canvas bag and an umbrella and heads for the door. “They’re resting in their room. There are sick buckets in the tub, just rinsed. Be careful not to touch anything you don’t have to. Don’t want you getting sick too, dear.”
“Thank you, Fran. Please get some rest.”
When the door closes behind her, I set down my bag and slip off my shoes. I tiptoe to the girls’ room and peek my head inside. I don’t want to wake them if they’re sleep—
“Presley!” Lacey cries.
I guess they aren’t sleeping.
The pale little girl tries to sit up in bed, but she’s too weak and falls back into her pillow with a whimper. Emilia is almost unconscious, probably asleep until her sister’s outburst. Her lips move but her eyes remain closed.
When I get closer, I can hear her saying, “Daddy. Daddy,” and my heart aches. I didn’t know Emilia was sick too.
This really is a ruthlessly contagious bug. I wonder if I should call Dominic and tell him . . . but he’s driving and I shouldn’t distress him any more than he is. I’ve only ever seen him frantic when it came to his daughters’ well-being. I decide that he can find out when he arrives later tonight.
“Hi, monkeys,” I say softly, approaching their beds. I know I’m not supposed to touch them, but they need a little comfort. I brush the sweaty curls from their faces and hold their hands.
“Where is Daddy?” Emilia asks, her eyes heavy with sleep.
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