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Lennon nods, but the tremble is a little more noticeable. “Lenny, honey, do you need a break? You’re shaking, baby.”
She thinks, her fingers rubbing together absently. I need to make sure there’s notebooks in the house, just in case she needs to write or draw. I won’t suggest it because I don’t know how she feels about music right now, and pushing it isn’t smart.
I just want her to have an outlet.
“I feel like I need to eat something and then maybe have a nap,” Lenny says with a sigh.
Greg nods. “I know you’re probably tired of needles, but I want you on an IV while you’re napping. I want to get some vitamins and saline into you, because of the lack of nutrients you’ve had access to,” he says.
That’s the nicest way to say “because you were starved and deprived of basic rights” that I’ve ever heard.
Lennon drains her glass of water, standing up. “I really want something with sugar,” she sighs. “I know I’m not supposed to…”
“I don’t think it’ll matter if you have a dessert or two as you finish withdrawing from the drugs,” Greg says, shaking his head. “You’ve been a model patient. Eat the fucking cake.”
Lenny giggles and he relaxes a little. Our meeting was a lot to begin to catch her up, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. She’s tired though, and there will be plenty of time for another family meeting.
I take her glass from her, my hand moving to her back. “How are your feet?” I ask as we walk.
They had been really cut up from running in the woods.
“They’re still sore, but the cuts are all scabbed over. My feet aren’t the prettiest they’ve ever been,” she says deprecatingly, “but they’ll be fine.”
Lenny stops in the hallway, biting her lip.
“Are you okay?” I ask, worried.
“I have to pee,” she states. “Like right now. Too much IV fluid and water,” Lenny laughs.
Grinning, I jut my chin down the hall. “Second door on the right, baby girl. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“Thank you, Ror. Love you,” she calls as she walks as quickly as her feet will take her. I catch a small limp, and my jaw clenches.
I know she’s not lying to me, but her feet are still bothering her. I wonder if Mama Rodriguez has anything I can make for Lennon. Pulling out my phone, I call Miguel as I make my way to the kitchen.
“Hola,Roark, how is everyone? Greg just told me you all made it out, but he’s been so damn busy we haven’t heard much else,”he says when he picks up.
“Hey, Miguel, things are kind of crazy, but we may be down your way when things calm down. Are you home by chance? Lenny has some cuts on her feet from running barefoot, and she’s limping. I’d like to talk to Mama Rodriguez and see if there’s anything she can recommend? Fuck, if Tesa is around that’ll work too. I swear, I saw her limp right now, and it made me want to hit something or fix it. I hung up my boxing gloves a long time ago, so here I am,” I tell him, snorting in amusement at my long winded answer.
“Huh, I feel like that’s a story I’d like to hear one day, Roark. I am home, I’m not leaving for the club for a while. Let me go find them, I think they were playing with the kids outside,” he says, and I can hear the creek of leather as he stands.
I immediately feel bad, because they’re all busy. “You know, I can try back later—” I begin to say, only to be interrupted by Miguel.
“Basta,” he demands. “If my mother knew you called and I didn’t immediately go tell her, none of my food would be safe for at least a week!”
I chuckle because that sounds like Mama Rodriguez.
I hear a door open, and then the sounds of childlike squeals fill the line.
“Mami!” Miguel calls out, and I can hear him walking.
“Si, mijo, que pasa?”Mama Rodriguez calls out.
My lips twitch as I hear her.
“Es tu otro hijo,” Miguel says, amused, though I only understand the word for you.
“Roark!” Mama Rodriguez squeals as she takes the phone and I chuckle. “You sound good,mijo.How is everyone?”
