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“I’m taking you to my house. I’ll take care of you, and I promise not to smother you with too much attention.”
She scrunches her face up, contemplating if she’s okay with that plan, and then nods her head. “I should probably let someone know I threw up in that planter over there,” she says, pointing at it in the corner. So that’s what the horrible smell is.
“I’ll take care of it,” I say, and she nods her head.
“Can we bring Diana as an emotional support animal to get me through this traumatic evening?” she asks.
“Hannah loves Diana, and I’m allergic, so no,” I say. She looks a little sad, but she waves goodbye to the cat lounging on the floor and then rests her head against my chest. My heart thunders, but then I remember she’s sick. She’s only doing it because she’s exhausted. Don’t read anything into this.
I take her out to my truck, eliciting a lot of questioning stares from everyone at the party, and then I come back in to find her sisters and explain. They all offer to take her instead, but I assure them that I was ready to leave anyway. Taking care of a sick Norah wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for the rest of the evening, but she looks like she needs someone.
I grab the planter from Hannah’s office, holding it as far from my body as possible. I take it outside to the water hose and spray it out so Hannah won’t have to worry about it later. Who am I kidding? She would either throw it away or make Seth do it. And then Seth would, for sure, throw it away.
I go back inside one last time to wash my hands (twice), and then I’m on my way home with an invalid in tow.
