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CHAPTER7
Tristan
Before we even have a chance to order dinner, my cell phone rings. “I have to get this—it’s my sister.”
“No problem, Tristan.”
“Tara, what’s up?”
“You have to come home—like, now.” Her voice is shrill enough for Remi to hear across the table.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Tommy. He cut his finger trying to sharpen one of his art pencils with the kitchen scissors. He’s bleeding all over the place.”
“Leave Jared in charge of Wendy and Uber to the clinic. I’ll catch an Uber too and be home in less than a half hour to watch the kids.” I’m already on my feet.
“Thanks, Tris… Wendy and Tommy already ate dinner, so just get there fast and calm them down.”
By the time I end the call, Remi is also standing. He has pulled his wallet out of his pocket and is placing cash on the table. “My car is in the lot across the street. I can get you home in fifteen minutes.”
“Oh, God… th-thanks so much.” The idea of Tommy bleeding has me shaking.
“It’ll be okay, Tristan. Let’s go.”
* * *
Tristan
As promised,we’re at my apartment in fifteen minutes. Maybe less. Remi follows me as I race through the front door to find Jared and Wendy huddled in the tiny window seat, their eyes wide and scared.
“Uncle Tris! You’re here!” Unaccustomed to being left alone, Jared rushes into my arms, doing his best to hold back sobs. “Tommy was… he was, like, bleeding all over the kitchen table! It… it freaked me out, like, totally!”
Wendy toddles to the door in his wake. She holds out her arms to me. “Uncle Tis, Mommy left us all alone!”
Remi steps beside me to comfort Jared so I can lift Wendy into my arms. “Hey, Jared…” His voice is gentle. “Your uncle told me how you took charge of a really tough situation. What a brave kid you are.”
Jared straightens up and wipes the tears from his eyes. “Uh-huh. I… I babysat Wendy all by myself… and it’s dark out.”
“I’m impressed. You’re awesome at soccer, and you know how to look after your little sister.”
“Come on, Coach. Let’s check out the blood on the kitchen table.” Jared grabs Remi’s hand and drags him toward the kitchen. “It’s, like, super disgusting.”
Remi glances back at me. “I’ll clean it up. You take care of Wendy.”
“Thanks.” I carry my niece through the kitchen and into the living room.
She points at Remi with a chubby finger as we pass by. “Who’s dat boy?”
“His name is Remi. He’s my friend.”
“Emmie!” she calls to him. “My brother Tommy’s thumbkin got bloody.”
Remi glances up at her with a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, Wendy, the doctors will fix him.” He and Jared head for the kitchen.
“How about if I read to you for a while, Wendy?” I ask.
“Just lambie books?”
“As many lambie books as you want.” I settle her beside me on the couch. “Here’s your blanket.” After listening to two stories, she climbs onto my lap and drifts off to sleep.
Jared’s voice pipes up from the kitchen. “Now that you cleaned up the blood and guts, can I show you my baseball card collection?” Jared has recovered quickly from his trauma. “And I got a ball signed by my whole little league team too. It’s from when I hit my first home run.”
“I’m going to need to see all of that.” Remi disappears into the kids’ bedroom with Jared, and for a moment, the apartment is peaceful. I close my eyes, exhausted from the long day and the flood of emotions.
Next thing I know, Tara is calling to me. “Tristan, we’re home from the clinic!”
I’m suddenly wide awake. “How’s Tommy?”
“Got nine stitches in my thumb. See?” He sticks his bandaged digit in my face. “Little Wenny, look—Doctor Nancy sewed my thumb back together!”
“Don’t wake her up, Tommy. You can show her in the morning.” Tara leans down to kiss Wendy’s forehead. “It’s bedtime for all little boys who almost chopped off the tip of their thumbs.”
“You mean me, Mommy?”
“Yes, I mean you.”
I adjust Wendy in my arms so I can stand. “Tara, the friend I was with when you called drove me home so I could get here fast. He’s the guy who coached the soccer game when Coach Wells was out. And he’s in the kids’ bedroom looking at Jared’s baseball card collection.”
“Sounds like a nice guy.” Tara yawns. “And I’m glad to hear that you got together with a friend—it’s been way too long. Sorry I screwed up your night.”
“No worries.”
“Mommy, think I’ll still be able to use clay at school?”
“I’m sure we’ll figure out a way—maybe you can wear a rubber glove.” She leads Tommy to the bathroom so he can brush his teeth as I head into the bedroom with Wendy. Remi is sitting next to Jared on his bed, looking on as my nephew plays Mario Golf on his Nintendo Switch.
* * *
