I drove over in that direction, pausing in the doorway. “I can be with you,” I offered, “or I can get your uncle.”
“Stay,” she said, sniffling hard, sounding painfully congested.
“Scoot over.”
“I don’t want to get you sick.”
“Too late, kiddo. You and me, we’re in this together,” I told her, parking next to the bed, then hauling myself up and sitting down. “How’re you feeling?”
“Everything hurts.”
“I know the feeling,” I agreed, lying down next to her. “But it sounds like I have a lot of stuffiness to look forward to.”
“My face is tight.”
I reached out, feeling her face. “At least the fever is down. You had us freaked out last night.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, her gaze moving over my face.
“I am. And we don’t have to worry about anything bad happening anymore.” To that, her face fell. “What’s the matter?”
“Are you leaving then?” she asked, her lip trembling. She was clearly feeling too shitty to hide her feelings.
“No, of course not.”
“When you’re better?” she asked.
“Nope. I was kind of hoping I could stay here with you guys. If that’s okay with you. If it’s not, you can tell me.”
“I want you to stay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I really like it here.”
“Do you love my uncle?”
“I do,” I said. “And your brother. And you.”
“Yeah?” she asked, eyes round, hopeful, maybe a little scared.
“Yep.”
“I, um, I love you too.”
My heart felt like it grew a size at that, at the shy, careful way she said it.
“Good. Because you’re stuck with me now.”
“Ice pop delivery,” Christopher said, appearing in the doorway with a cup full of several of them.
“I don’t like grape,” Charlotte complained.
“That’s okay. I do. You can have the pink. Whatever flavor that is.”
“Pretty sure all the flavors are just ‘sugar,’” Christopher said. “How are my girls doing?”
