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One from Minty.
I dialled Lucky but he didn’t answer. As it rang, a call came through from Minty.
“Minty! Oh, God! What’s wrong?”
“It’s okay, beautiful. Truly. Take a breath. Brayleigh has a high fever. 104 degrees. It’s after hours and Lucky misplaced her vaccination records. The doctor wanted to know if she was up to date?”
“Yes. Yes, she is. Oh, God. Is she okay? She hasn’t had a fever like that since she was six months old. She’s already got her two-year-old molars. What’s wrong? Any other symptoms?”
“She’s cranky. Quiet,” Minty shared. “I’ll keep you updated. It’s probably just the flu…hang on a second. They’re back.”
Lucky’s voice and Brayleigh’s cries sounded over the line.
Ares held me close against his side.
“Here’s Lucky,” Hope said.
“Hey, Hopeless,” Lucky greeted me. His familiar, loving voice soothed me.
“Is she okay, Luck?”
“Flu bug,” he answered. “Lots of fluids, Tylenol for fever, bring her back if we can’t get the fever down.”
I heard Brayleigh crying ‘Mama’ over the phone. “She wants me,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
“Of course, she does,” Lucky soothed. “You’re her mama but we’ve got her, Hope. I’ll keep you updated. Hourly, if you like, until her fever breaks.”
“Please, Lucky,” I agreed.
“Done,” he assured me.
“I’ll get home as soon as I can,” I promised.
“Okay, Hope. No worries.”
“I feel so bad that I’m not there.”
“You can’t be there all the time, Hope. Don’t beat yourself up.” Brayleigh’s cries intensified. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I whispered.
The line died, and I turned into Ares’s chest.
A pregnant moment passed before his arms came around to encircle me tightly.
“My baby’s sick. They think she has the flu. I could hear her crying for me,” I murmured into his chest.
“Yeah, hey Eloise.”
My head shot up to find Ares’ cell pressed to his ear.
“Hope’s kid is sick. Book the first flight out of here for her. Text the details asap.”
My eyes skittered back and forth, torn between my job and my child. The need to get to her tempered by the need to do better for her. The mother in me dying a slow death, the warrior preparing to take on my boss when he chewed me out for leaving early and not overseeing the shoot.
“What about the shoot?”
Both of his hands ran up and down my back, drawing me close. “Let’s see when we can get you out of here, then we’ll deal with the shoot.”
