Page 67 of Bobby

By the time Willow comes out from a four-hour nap, I’ve learned everything there is to know about Barbie. I knew of the doll because Milly, my sister, had a few. I just had no idea that the woman had so many jobs. We’ve watched cartoon after cartoon, each one featuring a different career field. That’s why the girls like her—they can both be like her and also like different things.

Lily is the attention-seeking high-fashionista, while Ivy is into the science and math areas of life. Both are brilliant in their own way, and while I knew about these traits during our after-school program shopping, it’s good to see that I guessed right when I asked several questions over our time together.

“Hey,” Willow whispers as she comes up behind me on the couch. I heard the door when she opened it but remained reading with Lily on the couch.

She touches my shoulder briefly before she moves around us to kneel on the floor in front of Ivy.

“How’s she doing?”

“She threw up twice, each time after the Pedialyte. I had her sip some ginger ale this last time, and she just went to sleep about ten minutes ago. I hope that’s okay. My mama used to give it to us when my brothers and sister got sick.”

She nods as she brushes her hand softly over the honey curls on Ivy’s head. “That’s fine. Ginger is a natural remedy for nausea. I didn’t think we had any of that in the house.”

“You didn’t. I had some upstairs that I had Marco get for me.”

A soft knock pulls both our attention, but I shake my head at Willow when she moves to get up. “I’ll get it. Save my place, Lily. I need to know if the fox will eat those green eggs.” I lift her off me and set her on the couch before going to the door. I’m expecting Marco, as I asked him to bring some soup, so I don’t look out, which is a mistake on my part.

A big one.

The second I open the door, I close my eyes.

“Mama. What are you doing here?”

I open them at her sigh and see her lips pursed together. “Roberto Salvatore Leone. Did you really think you could get away with calling the family doctor and not expect me to find out about it?”

“I had hoped,” I mumble as I look away, agitated that the man I called to get a second opinion about Ivy’s illness would tattle on me to my mother. Not that I didn’t trust Willow. I was just worried.

“Well, that was foolish of you. Now step aside so I can see to her myself.”

There really is no reasoning with Mama, not even with this. So, with no other options, I let her in, shutting the door behind her as she makes her way into the apartment.

“Oh.” Willow’s head pops up from resting it on the couch by Ivy at seeing my mother round the couch. Lily is looking at my mama with curious eyes but is holding herself back for once.

“Don’t get up, sweetie. Stay with your little girl. I’m only here to check in on you and make sure my son hasn’t messed anything up.” She flicks her eyes to me with a glare, and I roll my eyes.

“Son?” Willow squeaks out a second before she scrambles to her feet and pats at her hair.

“Sorry, Willow, but my mother”—this time I glare at her, but she only smiles as she keeps looking at Willow and not me—“heard about Ivy. I called my doctor before giving her the ginger ale just to be sure it wouldn’t hurt her empty stomach. He then called Mama, and Mama… well, as you can see, she has a tendency to poke her nose into things that don’t need poking into. Mama, as you can see, everything is fine. I didn’t ruin the child. You can go now.”

I gesture to the door, which she ignores.

“I brought soup.”

Willow had opened her mouth to say something, but she stops at my mother’s words.

“It might not seem necessary, but I fed it to my kids each time they were under the weather, and they were quickly back to feeling like their old selves. Though grumpier than usual, at least for that one.” Mama flicks her head in my direction, but she does it with a conspiratorial smile that gets a surprise laugh from Willow.

“I hope that’s okay.” Mama pulls it from her usual oversized handbag and hands it to my girl.

“Yes, thank you. Um, this is my other daughter, Lily. Lily, say hi, sweetie.”

She waves, and Mama winks at her.

“Ivy’s the one who’s sick, but I guess you knew that already. And I’m—”

“Willow, dear. Yes, I know. My son tells me things, sometimes.” Her eyes narrow toward me.

Willow’s eyes go wide as she glances at me for a second before looking back at Mama.