Feels like Home (Lake Fisher 2)

I open the door and step back into the room. She’s still scrubbing, but she looks pretty resigned to the fact that her panties are not going to come clean. “I sent your dad and Eli for supplies,” I say.

She gasps “You told Eli?”

“No, no,” I rush to say. “I told them it was for me.” It’s not a total lie, so I don’t feel guilty about it.

She arches one brow and she looks so much like Lynda that it’s like going back in time. “What’s wrong?” she suddenly asks.

I make a curve with my index finger over my eye and lift it skyward. “When you did that thing with your eyebrow, you looked just like your mother.”

“Thank you,” she says quietly.

“You’re welcome.” I riffle through the bag and pull out the heating pad. “You might or might not need this.” She takes it from me. I open the bottle of junior strength pain relievers that Aaron got and shake two into her hand. She takes them with a little water from the faucet. I peer into the bag again and grin. “Your dad is an overachiever,” I say. Then I hold up the chocolate bar. They bought four.

I sit down on the edge of the tub, hand her a bar of chocolate, and open a bar for myself. She stares down at the chocolate bar. “What’s this for?”

“It’s just a treat.”

“Why do you get one?”

I lay my hand on my stomach. “I’m about to get my period too,” I say. I’m not, but it seems fitting. I take a bite of the chocolate bar and point to the bag. “There are pads and tampons in there that might be better suited for you.”

“Oh, okay.” She glances toward the bag, but she doesn’t look in it.

A knock sounds on the door and I get up, crack it open, and peer out to find Aaron standing there with my bottle of nail polish. I hold my hand out for it. “What are you guys doing?” he asks.

“Eating chocolate,” I say around my full mouth.

He stares at my face. “Why are you eating chocolate?”

“Do you really want to talk about my period, Aaron?”

He pushes the nail polish into my hand, closes my fist around

it, and shoves my hand back through the slit in the door. Then he solidly closes the door.

“I hate you, Bess,” he says through the crack.

I grin.

I shake the bottle of nail polish. “So, how do you feel about pink toenails?”

We paint one another’s toenails as we finish our chocolate bars, and then she looks toward the door. “I think I’m ready to go out now.” She wraps her new period panties in a dirty towel and tosses them into the hamper.

“Oh, okay.” I push up from the floor and stand up. “Thanks for painting my toenails.” I wiggle my toes against the linoleum.

“It’s not easy being a woman,” she says stoically. And I force myself to look sympathetic and nod, rather than laugh.

We go out and find Aaron and Eli sitting on the porch. “So, what’s for dinner?” I ask. I just ate a chocolate bar the size of my head, so I doubt I’ll even want dinner.

Aaron shoves my shoulder. But he freezes when Sam walks out of the house, sits down next to him, and leans against his arm. “Thanks for the chocolate, Dad,” she whispers.

He lifts his arm around her shoulders and mouths the words “thank you” at me.

I smile at him, stand up, wipe my butt off, and follow Eli home. We’ll be back together for dinner, but right now Aaron needs some time with his family. No one can be sure how much time he has left, so every minute counts.

Eli looks at my head as we go inside, and I grin. I still have on the crown he made for me, and I plan to wear it for the rest of the night.

“Hey, I found something of yours,” I say. I walk in the kitchen and retrieve his small red ball from the kitchen junk drawer. “Here.” I throw it toward the floor so it bounces toward him. He catches it and grins.