“I got you,” I told her, and she nodded once before allowing me to lift her into my arms.
“Third time’s a charm,” she whispered. She closed her eyes as she laid her head against my chest, and she kept them shut the whole time I pulled the covers back, laid her down, and pulled the blanket over her small body.
“Thank you,” she whispered as I shut off the light.
I doubted she’d remember any of the night’s events come morning, which was probably for the best.
“Of course.”
“I’m sorry my sister left you,” she said, yawning with her eyes still closed. “Because even though you’re cold, you’re still very warm.”
“I’m sorry Dick left you,” I replied. “Because even when you’re upset, you’re still very kind.”
“It hurts,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around a pillow and pulling it closer to her chest. Her eyes stayed closed, and I watched a few tears slip out. “Being left behind hurts.”
Yes.
It did.
I stood still for a few moments, unable to leave her side. As someone who’d been left behind before, I didn’t want her to fall asleep being alone. Perhaps she wouldn’t remember me standing there in the morning, and maybe she wouldn’t have even cared. But I knew what it felt like going to bed alone. I knew the cold chill that loneliness left drifting through a darkened room, and I didn’t want her to suffer from that same feeling. Therefore, I stayed. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep. Her breaths were gentle, her tears stopped, and I shut the door. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why a person would leave someone as gentle as her behind—with or without her weird sage stick and crystals.
Ouch, ouch, ouch.
I slowly sat up in bed, realizing quickly it wasn’t my bed at all. My eyes examined the room, and I shifted around in the sheets a bit. My hands fell against my forehead.
Ouch!
My mind was spinning as I tried to recall what happened the night before, but everything seemed to be a blur. The most important piece of information came flooding back to me, though—Richard had chosen New York City over me.
I turned to my left and found a small tray sitting on the nightstand with a glass of orange juice, two pieces of toast, a bowl of berries, a bottle of ibuprofen, and a small note.
Sorry for misleading you last night.
I’m a jerk. Here’s some medicine and breakfast to make up for me
making you feel like shit this morning.
-Johnnie Walker
I smiled and popped a few berries into my mouth before washing down the ibuprofen. Pulling myself up, I walked to the bathroom and washed my face—my mascara was smeared all over, making me look like a raccoon. Then, I used the toothpaste in the top drawer and my finger as the brush to clean my nasty morning-after-whisky breath.
As I finished washing up, I heard Talon crying and hurriedly went to check on her. I walked into her nursery and paused when I saw an older lady standing over her, changing her diaper.
“Hello?” I asked.
The woman turned for a moment then went back to her task.
“Oh hello, you must be Lucy,” the woman exclaimed, lifting Talon into her arms and bouncing the smiling girl. She turned my way with a big grin. “I’m Mary, Ollie’s wife.”
“Oh, hi! It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too, darling. I’ve heard so much about you from Ollie. Not as much from Graham, but, well, you know Graham.” She winked. “How’s your head?”
“It’s somehow still there,” I joked. “Last night was rough.”
“You kids and your coping mechanisms. I hope you’re feeling better soon.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “Um, where’s Graham exactly?”