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“Come on, Frank. You’ll feel better.”
“Have you tasted that crap?” he asked, pushing the cup back toward her.
“No,” Maggie said, trying again to get the cup in his hands. “I don’t need it, but you do. It will help you feel less nauseous so you can eat. You need to eat something, sweetheart.”
“I tell you what. I’ll drink it if you will.”
Maggie stared down at him, frowning for several seconds. Setting the cup down on the bedside table, she huffed, “Fine. Be right back.”
Frank smiled as she stalked toward the door, her fanny swaying, her brownish-red hair bouncing at her shoulders. If he didn’t feel like barfing up the dry toast he’d struggled to get down earlier, he’d pull her into bed and remind her what she did to him every time she entered… and exited… a room.
Minutes later she returned with another steaming cup in hand. “I have mine, so let’s have tea, my fine gentleman.”
“Bah, you know I ain’t no gentleman. That’s why you married me.”
Maggie smiled as she lifted the tea to her lips. “So I’m not into stuffy old boring by-the-book guys. You got me pegged.”
And then she took a sip.
Before spitting it right back into her cup.
“Dear God, that’s terrible,” she said, coughing and setting the cup beside his on the bedside table.
Frank laughed and opened the drawer beneath the two cups. “In that case, can I interest you in a piece of chewing gum?”
Maggie laughed and that was all he needed to feel better. In fact, he should suggest it to the doc the next time he went in for the chemo—Maggie’s laughter in a bottle.
Cures whatever ails you.
Now if he could just get his daughter to talk to him… and get his mother to realize he wasn’t a liar.
TESSJOGGEDTOWARDthe sideline of the soccer field, the whistle from her refereeing days slapping a rhythm against her sternum. They’d wrapped up practice early… not because they’d accomplished much, but because the attention span of a seven-year-old resembled that of a dog. She might as well have yelled “Squirrel!” every five seconds.
“Okay, Ladybugs, huddle up,” she shouted, beckoning the frolicking seven-year-olds toward where she stood. They tumbled over one another, giant bows bobbing as they skidded to a halt around her.
“We’re so good we’re going to beat everyone,” one little girl said with a fist pump.
“Yeah, the other teams are gonna eat our dust,” another one said.
“Yay!” Emily squealed, hopping around, making all the other little girls do the same thing. They looked like popcorn on acid.
Tess blew the whistle. “Okay, settle down. We still have work to do before we can take on any challengers. And, first thing first, we have to work on a team cheer.”
Ten pair of blinking eyes met her gaze.
“We gotta have a cheer?” one asked.
“Well, sure. It’s how we show unity. The other teams will know exactly who they are playing when we do our Ladybug cheer. So I’m giving you a homework assignment,” Tess said with a smile.
“Awww,” several groaned.
“Well, this is a fun homework assignment,” Tess conceded, putting her arms around the nearest girls and drawing them into a huddle. “I want all of you to go home and work on a fun little chant. Something about being red, black, and not afraid of anyone.”
“Are ladybugs mean?” Emily asked, her expression growing concerned.
“Of course not, but they’re tough just like we are. Can everyone do that?”
Heads nodded, bows bobbed, and smiles met hers.
