“Who?” they ask at the same time.
I point to my chest.
“Daddy,” they say, giggling. It’s not the same carefree giggle, but it does help to slow the rapid beat of my heart in my chest.
“You monkeys ready to go home and snuggle?”
“Is Waken coming too?” Hayden asks.
“No. Not today. It’s just going to be me and my girls.” I smile at them.
“Waken is a girl too, Daddy,” Harlow reminds me.
I smile at her. “I know she is, but I need some daddy-daughter time. Just the three of us.”
“Okay,” they easily agree.
Dad helps me carry them out to my truck and get them into their car seats.
“Here.” Mom hands me their backpacks. “It’s been about two hours since they were sick, and they’ve both had some Pedialyte. I put the leftover bottle in Hayden’s backpack.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Dad.” I give him a nod.
“You call us if you need us,” Mom insists.
“I will. Thank you.”
We manage to make it home without incident. The girls insist that they can walk on their own, so I hover behind them as we make our way into the house. “Bed or couch?” I ask them. They were both almost asleep in the truck.
“Couch,” they both reply.
“Get settled, and I’ll grab your blankets.” They both have these soft blankets they like to sleep with. My mom bought the girls them for Christmas a couple of years ago, and they’ve slept with them ever since.
“Here we go,” I say, handing them their blankets. They’ve already got the television turned to cartoons, and I smile. “I’m going to go grab a couple of bowls. I’ll be right back.”
In the kitchen, I grab two large plastic bowls that I bought after their last stomach bug. I realized getting them to the trash can that’s next to the couch was harder than it sounds. So, bowls it is, ones that can sit right next to them on the couch.
“Daddy!” I hear my name called, but by the time I’m back in the living room, Hayden has already gotten sick all over everything. And Harlow, well, she’s midgag, but I don’t make it to her with the bowl in time.
I fight back my own gag reflex as I fold the mess into their blankets and usher them to the bathroom.
I manage to get them both bathed and start a load of laundry without another incident. Once I have them dressed in pajamas, they settle into their beds, exhausted.
“How about Daddy reads you a story?” I ask.
“Yes, please,” they say softly. My girls are never quiet and soft about anything. That’s a clear indication they’re not feeling well.
Just as I start to read, my phone rings in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see Laken’s name. I debate on not answering, but I don’t want her showing up and getting sick. “Hey, babe.”
“How are they? How are you?” she rushes to ask.
“They’re doing okay. Their tummies are still hurting.”
“Is that Waken?” Hayden asks.
“It’s Laken,” I tell her.
“We want to tell her, Daddy.”
“Hold on. The girls want to talk to you.” I switch the call to speaker. “Laken?”
“I’m here.”
“Waken, we’s sick,” Hayden announces.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry you don’t feel good. I know that your daddy is taking good care of you.”
“He is. Hims gave us a baf after we puked,” Harlow tells her.
“Gray?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you sure you don’t need my help?”
“No. We’re good. I promise.”
“Well, if that changes, you know how to reach me. You need me to bring some soup or Pedialyte or medicine, or anything?” she asks.
“No, I stay stocked up just in case.” It’s something I’ve learned as a single dad, always be prepared. I don’t have a partner to run to grab those things while I stay home with the girls or vice versa. I need to be prepared for anything. I learned that pretty fast.
“Okay. Well, you don’t hesitate to call me if you need me.”
“Thank you, Laken.”
“Girls?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you. I’ll see you soon.”
I swallow hard at the sound of her telling my daughters that she loves them. To my knowledge, this is the first time.
“Wove you, Waken,” they reply.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” I tell her, taking the call off speaker.
“Love you.”
“Love you too.” I end the call, pushing my cell back into my pocket. “Right, now it’s story time.”
I read them one of their favorite princess books, and by the time I’m finished, their eyes are drooping. I kiss them each on the forehead and turn off the light.
“Daddy?” I turn to see Hayden sitting up in bed. She looks over at Harlow, and she does the same. That weird twin thing that they do is on full display.
“Are you going to be sick?” I ask.
“No. But can Waken be our mommy?”
“Pwease, Daddy?” Harlow adds.
All the breath leaves my lungs, and my legs threaten to give out on me. I have to hold onto the door frame to keep from falling to the floor. I take a few deep breaths before I can compose myself to speak. “You have a mommy. She’s in heaven.” The words feel like sandpaper coming out of my mouth. It was never supposed to be like this. Holly was supposed to be here with me, raising our daughters.