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“You should probably get away while you can.”
“If I get sick, I get sick.” That’s always his response when the girls are sick. Damn, we really are predictable. “I’m going to run and stock up on soup, ginger ale, and crackers. Text me if you think of anything else we need.” He gets out of bed and makes quick work of getting ready so he can leave.
The girls wake up while he’s gone, moaning about a tummy ache. Looks like a lazy day in bed trying to keep our stomachs happy. I’m the only one who has to make use of the trashcan by the bed, though. The nausea comes on so sudden, it is all I can do to pick it up in time. The sooner we’re healthy, the better.
Fortunately for the girls, they recover within two days. Me? No such luck. Even worse, Scott’s first preseason game is looming closer and closer, and my anxiety is higher than ever. I’m not thinking about that or the fact that despite being sick as a dog and barely holding anything down, I’ve gained some weight. I don’t know how much because I’m scared to look, but my bra is too tight and my favorite pair of jeans barely buttoned today. They felt so tight, I decided it was a leggings kind of day. Unfortunately, I went out and bought new bras because I’m not dealing with that. I guess it’s time I start exercising again.
As if things couldn’t get any worse.
But again, I’m not thinking about any of that. Right now, I’m going to convince Lizzy to let me work with her.
“You look exhausted,” I comment as we take a seat at the table in Bagels and Butts.
“Morning sickness is the worst. Between that and doing cakes this past weekend, I am exhausted. I have even more to do this weekend. But none of that is a complaint. Marc ordered me to take it easy this week. He’s pushing me to quit with the bank now more than ever.”
“Are you going to?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I’m scared, to be honest. I don’t feel ready for any of this. I was just making a few cakes here and there and then it exploded. I’m having to say no because I’m limited to one to two nights a week and the weekend and those are already booked with clients until the end of October. I don’t understand how this happened.”
I lay my hand over hers, hoping to soothe her. “The how doesn’t matter. It’s what we’re going to do about it. Hear me out before you decide to get mad.”
“Oh, no. What did you do, Sylvia?” Her shoulders sag in defeat already. If she wasn’t so tired, she’d likely be mad instead.
I find the business card in my purse and slide it across the table. Her eyes widen.
“This is gorgeous, but I don’t understand.”
“I want to help you with the business side of things. I know about marketing and I can do some things with graphic design. I also have some business knowledge. What I don’t know, we can learn. I don’t even have to be in this long-term, if you don’t want me to be, but I’d love to help get you started.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“Yeah. I can even help with the cakes. I mean, obviously, I can’t decorate, but if you need a helping hand with baking the cakes, I can do that. Just give me your top secret recipes.” I waggle my eyebrows, causing her to laugh. This is probably the only way I can get my hands on her recipes, too. That’s definitely a bonus.
“I don’t have a way to pay you. At least, I don’t think so. I’d have to double check the numbers.”
I shrug. “I just want to help. That’ll be okay for now.”
“Okay. Tell me your ideas. I know you have them.” She sags further in her chair when I pull out the business plan I’ve been working on when I haven’t been puking. “I’m tired just looking at that thing.”
“Don’t worry. You don’t have to read it.” I tell her about everything I’ve been thinking about when it comes to what will be her business venture. She has the talent, the support, the drive and the name. She needs to pull it all together and get things going. I have big plans for my sister-in-law. I want her to succeed and live her dreams just as much as Scott and Marc do. If I can help her do that? You bet your ass I’m going to help.
After lunch, I have to do some grocery shopping, pick up a few things for the girls, pick them up from school, ta
ke Stella to the rink so she can get her fill of ice time, and then we’re back to the house where I’m cooking dinner while the girls do a worksheet for homework. Stella amazes me with her love of the ice and her dedication to learning how to skate and learning the skills necessary for playing hockey. She keeps this up, and she’ll be competing in college, easy. Maybe she could go even further and play in the Olympics.
The girls want to paint our toenails. I want to sleep, but I can totally let them paint my nails and supervise while they do each other’s. It’s always fun to watch them do this. They pick the same color for each other every single time and then argue over who gets to do it first until I tell them to take turns. When it comes to me, however, I get a different color for each foot and each hand.
The moment they go to bed is the moment I take a deep breath and fall into my own bed, not even bothering getting under the covers. Scott is out on some non-official team bonding crap; basically, their captain, Brayden Hayes, thought they could use some more time to hang out together. They’re probably out bowling or something. I’m sure Scott told me what they were doing, but for the life of me, I can’t remember. I just want to sleep anyway.
With a groan, I force my eyes to open. My shirt is being pushed up and a mouth is openly kissing its way across my stomach, heading north. I brace myself for the nausea to hit, but it’s not there for the moment.
“I love you,” Scott murmurs against my skin. His mouth moves to my breast and this time, I groan for an entirely different reason.
Damn, that feels so good.
He pulls away, his hands grasping both of my breasts. Even that feels good. I shake my head at the craziness of it. Man, will he just fuck me already? Why is he obsessed with my breasts tonight? Not that it doesn’t feel good, but he’s driving me crazy.
“Have you gained some weight?”
