Rolling into the parking lot, I saw Hannah’s car sitting next to the handicapped spots. Considering how late it was, it worried me that she would still be there, and I hustled up to the steps of the townhouse around twelve-fifteen. When I got to my door, I could hear Hannah inside talking, but she didn’t sound upset, so I quietly put the key in and opened up gently, in case she was on the phone and Chloe was asleep.
“Hey,” Hannah said, waving at me from the easy chair next to the couch when I got inside. I waved back, and a familiar hand rose above the back of the couch to wave at me, too.
“Hey, Hannah. How’s Chloe?”
“I’m fine,” Chloe said in a voice that screamed that she was most certainly not doing anything resembling being fine.
“I sincerely doubt that,” I said as I reached the couch and bent over to kiss her head. She wasn’t sweating at her hairline anymore, so that was good, but she looked miserable. Her skin had a distinctive greenish color about it that made her look not unlike Oscar the Grouch.
“She’s been doing a bit better,” Hannah said. “Got some ginger ale in her, but that’s about it. No stomach for food.”
“Ugh,” Chloe said, sticking her tongue out. “Food. Ick.”
Hannah stood and grabbed Chloe’s toes over the blanket and gave them a shake.
“I’m going to head home,” Hannah said. “This baby is about ready for her one in the morning feeding, and then I get a few hours’ sleep.”
“Okay,” Chloe said from her blanket mountain. “Love you, bye.”
“Love you, too, hon,” Hannah said and began walking toward the front door. I followed her and opened the door for her.
“Hey,” I said in a near whisper. “Is she okay?”
“I think so,” Hannah said. “I was just dropping some stuff off to make her feel better. I remembered when we were little, she liked those cheap popsicles and dumb magazines when she was sick, so I brought some over. Popsicles are in the freezer, by the way.”
“Thanks, Hannah. I appreciate you coming to see her.”
“Of course,” Hannah said. “She can be a little bratty when she’s not feeling well. Don’t take it personally.”
She grinned, and I forced out a laugh.
“Okay, thanks.”
“Good night,” Hannah said, then turned to the couch. “Good night, Chloe.”
The hand returned for one final wave over the back of the couch, and Hannah ducked out carrying the car seat and fussy baby at her side.
I closed the door and headed into the bathroom. I remembered she loved the lavender oils, so I used some in building her a bath and made sure to sit a couple of towels and a fresh change of comfortable pajamas out and went to get her.
“Come on, you. Let’s get you in the tub.”
“Okay,” she said reluctantly and held out her hands. I pulled her to her feet, and she shuffled toward the bathroom. When we got there, she turned and put her hands weakly on my chest, stopping me from following her in. “No. I’m not sexy. This bath is solo.”
“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
“Good.” She nodded and shut the door between us. She looked so sad to have to shut me out, but I had a feeling a tub would perk her up a little and hopefully relax her so she could sleep.
When I finally heard the drain going as she got out of the tub a little later, I went into the linen closet and pulled out new sheets and changed the bed I’d made her on the couch. Switching out the old pillow for a new one and filling a new glass of ginger ale, I went into the kitchen to make some tea. Having the ability to bounce between the tea and the ginger ale would give her options and hopefully help her stomach calm down.
I laughed when I watched her shuffling out of the bathroom to the living room again, giant fuzzy slippers on her feet. She had gone from one Muppet to another, apparently, though I didn’t think Chloe was actually in the mood for any cookies. I followed her in and set her tea down on the coffee table before holding the sheets out for her to curl up.
We sat and watched television for some time, her sipping her tea and shifting around uncomfortably on the couch. I offered for her to take the recliner, but she declined, and I watched, growing more worried about how she seemed to not be able to settle down.
Finally, the clock had wound late enough that there was no point in staying up anymore. She hadn’t thrown up in a while, and she clearly couldn’t get comfortable on the couch. I stood up and offered my hand, and she took it.