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“I haven’t talked to him myself, but from what I hear he’s ok. His dad’s in jail and he was staying with his aunt, last I heard.”
“What do you mean was?”
“I think he’s back at his house with his little brother. He turned eighteen this weekend and I think it was cool for him to go home.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear he’s okay,” I say to Austin, but it does concern me he and his brother are home alone.
Class is over in the blink of an eye and my day here at school is done. I don’t stop by the office after all, now that I have a bit of an update from Austin. I decide to let it lie for the time being. I head to my car and notice there’s a note under my windshield wiper.
Watch your back bitch!
What the hell?
A chill runs down my spine as I hold the note in my now clammy hand. I scan the school parking lot to see if there’s anybody around, but I don’t see anybody. I jump in my car and head out of the parking lot much faster than you are supposed to in a school zone, and I haul ass to Ireland’s school. I know just giving her a squeeze will calm me down, and knowing she is okay is all I can think about.
I pull into the school parking lot, park haphazardly and rush from my car to the front doors of the building. At first I don’t see her playing in her usual spot over by the doll house, but after a quick look I see her in the back sitting on a teacher’s lap. She looks lethargic and her cheeks are rosy.
“Hey baby girl, what’s wrong?” I ask moving her hair off of her face.
“I don’t feel good, momma,” she whimpers.
I know when she calls me momma there’s something wrong. I’m usually mom or mommy but when she’s sick, tired or pouting she pulls out the momma card and it gets me every time.
“She had a temp of a hundred and one when we checked about five minutes ago. We knew you would be here any minute to pick her up so we hadn’t texted you yet,” her teacher explains.
“Wow, poor baby. Come here and let’s get you home and feeling better,” I say as I take her from the teacher’s arms and into my own. I can instantly feel the heat radiating off of her.
“I know you know, but just a reminder that she won’t be able to come back to school for twenty-four hours after her fever is gone.” Turning her attention to Ireland she says, “You feel better, little one, and we’ll see you later this week.”
Shit! I’m going to have to miss work and I have class tonight! Thank God it’s an online class and I don’t have to go anywhere.
“Thanks, Beverly. Hopefully she’s better soon and just misses tomorrow.”
Ireland is limp as I carry her to Justine and isn’t much help as I get her snapped into her big girl booster seat. She’s quiet all the way home and practically asleep by the time we get to Mickey’s. I hate that we’re at Mickey’s and now not only does he have the two of us invading his space, but he has a sick child to put up with. I know he doesn’t look at it that way, but I hate to be a burden to him or to anybody for that matter.
When I walk in the front door, Mickey’s sitting on the couch, eating cereal and watching TV. When he sees that Ireland is not her usual self he instantly jumps up and asks if he can help. I tell him she has a fever and I don’t want him to get sick either, but he tells me to shut up, takes her from me and carries her to her room. I bust out the Children’s Tylenol and have her drink it down, then I get her in her jammies and sit with a cold, wet, wash rag held to her forehead. I settle in for what I’m sure is going to be a long night, with a sick Ireland and class to get through. It’s a glamorous life, I know, but somebody has to live it!
Ireland’s fever finally broke around midnight on Monday night after she threw up all over her bed and herself. Mick got home from work shortly after while I had Ireland in the bath trying to clean her up. He came in and stripped her bed, started the wash and put clean bedding on her bed for me. He sure does have moments that just melt my heart. Once he settles down he’s going to make himself a great dad and husband. It may be years from now, but he’ll get there. It’s just going to take the right woman.
It’s now Wednesday and I’m sitting at my desk waiting for the bell to ring so that I can head home. Between taking care of my baby girl, class and not sleeping from worrying about life and where I’m headed, I am exhausted. Throw in the fact that every text from Jonathan makes my heart soar and butterflies dance around my insides and there is no sleep happening in my world. Fingers crossed Ireland will want to take a nap or at least watch a movie and I can crash next to her for a bit.
Ah, there it is, the gift that keeps on giving . . . the bell that says I get to go home. I gather all of my belongings, say goodbye to Heidi and I bail. I cannot get to my car, to the pre-school and to Mick’s fast enough.
Before I even reach my car though, I stop in my tracks when I see a piece of paper stuck under my wiper blade again. I look all around and don’t see anybody, but I still approach my car on high alert. I look under the car and check the back seat before I grab the note and get inside.
Smart of you not to come to work yesterday bitch!
Once again I race out of the parking lot and to Ireland. I just don’t understand why this is happening. Is this about Jesse? I don’t know who else would want to threaten me. This just doesn’t make sense.
Just as I reach the school my phone pings and tells me I have a text. I see it’s from an unknown number and break out into a sweat when I read it.
Unknown Caller: You will get what you deserve—Just stay away
I drop the phone in my purse like it has some sort of disease and sit in my car trying not to panic. What the fuck?
Calm down Emily. You have to walk into the school and get your daughter and not freak her out. Just breathe and get home to Mickey.
Mick looks like he’s getting ready to head out to the gym when Ireland and I walk through the door.
