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“Of course,” she says, standing aside as we pass. “You just focus on getting better, sweetie.”
Marsha heads back into the bullpen as I lead Kipp toward the front door, keeping pace with his slow gait.
“Doing okay?” I ask.
He nods, but it’s a measured thing. “I think I’m sick, Teddy.”
“Yeah,” I say with a huff. “I think it’s likely.”
“I might get you sick.”
“If you do, you do.”
He groans as I get him settled in the car.
“There’s a bag by your feet if you need it,” I let him know.
He groans again, leaning his head back against the seat. “Let’s just…not talk about it.”
I dutifully keep my mouth shut as I get into the car and drive us home. Inside, I get Kipp set up on the couch, a blanket beneath him that he insisted on because I’m gross, Teddy, and another over top of him to keep him warm. I have him take some of the anti-nausea meds and drink some water, but when I pop the top on a Gatorade, he groans again.
“Teddy…”
“Do you need the bathroom?” I ask.
He curses. “Think so.”
I whisk him that way, and the moment we reach the doorway, Kipp falls to his knees and hugs the toilet. I rub his back, wincing as he heaves.
“Don’t look at me, Teddy. I’m hideous.”
“Never,” I assure him, brushing his damp hair off his forehead.
He makes a pitiful sound, trying to hide his face. “You’re never going to want me again after this.”
“Impossible, sweetheart.”
His huff is incredulous, and I hand him a wet cloth that he uses to wipe his face. After that, I give him some mouthwash, which he spits into the toilet.
“Want to know a secret that’s not really a secret?” I ask, running my thumb along his ear.
He meets my gaze hesitantly.
“I like taking care of you,” I say softly.
“But not like this,” he says, forehead creased.
“Even like this.”
He makes a sound of disbelief, and I know I can’t explain it to him without giving myself away. Without telling him how much I care for him. Without saying I want the privilege of looking after him for a very, very long time.
Instead, I help him to his feet and down the hall.
“Let’s try this again,” I say, giving him some more meds once he’s seated.
He downs the small amount, followed by some Gatorade this time. I get him settled between the blankets before sitting down beside him.
“What was with the cats?” I ask, hoping to distract him from how he’s feeling.
