Jennifer Greene - Yours, Mine & Ours

Both of them. Not just her. He’d frozen up, too.

She felt as if she were on the cusp of grasping it all-grasping what really mattered, about her, about him, about the two of them…when suddenly she heard Molly cry out.

There was no way Teddy was staying at his parents’ house. None. Teddy was beside himself crying when Mike showed up…and burning up, as well.

His mom never freaked in a crisis, but she was clearly upset. “I know what to do for a sick child, Mike, for heaven’s sake. It has all the symptoms of chicken pox. Nothing worse. But I just couldn’t seem to comfort him. All he wanted was you.”

“It’s okay. I’ll get him home.” Teddy immediately simmered down-at least temporarily-once Mike picked him up.

Except, Mike was the one shaken up after that. Teddy’s little body was so darned hot. Mike wrapped him in the sheet he’d been sleeping in, added a blanket, strapped the whole bundle into the truck and took off for home.

Before daylight, he’d called the new pediatrician, the old pediatrician, the E.R. They all gave him the same answer. The pinpoint-size spray of spots on Teddy’s chest and tummy were symptomatic of chicken pox. So was the l02-degree fever. And a mild case of chicken pox was running through the county. They gave him the rundown on the course of the disease, things he could try, what to expect for the next ten days.

They all said the same thing.

This was a normal childhood illness, nothing to worry about.

Right. His kid was miserable, threw up the child’s fever reducer, didn’t want to sleep, just wanted to be held on his dad’s lap in the recliner. Eventually Cat joined them. Then Slugger.

He wanted to call Amanda. Couldn’t-without dislodging his entire family. And then she called, sometime early in the morning. He couldn’t reach the phone fast enough, and the answering machine picked up.

“Mike…Molly came down with chicken pox. I’m guessing if you’re dealing with a rash and fever, your Teddy has the same thing. Call if you need a hand.” Then her softer voice. “We’ll catch up. You can count on it.”

He brooded on that. For him, their night together had been an Armageddon…but there was every reason to fear she wouldn’t take it in a positive way. Hell. It could look to her like he’d plied her with liquor and been insensitive to the custody hearing thing she’d been through.

He made red Jell-O soup and scrambled eggs, then blue Jell-O soup, then finally got the hang of making the Jell-O gel. But then it gelled so tight that you could turn the bowl upside down and it wouldn’t come out. Teddy asked for peanut butter and jelly-which he promptly threw up. Mike microwaved chicken noodle soup. Then more scrambled eggs. Then he ran out of Jell-O and scrambled eggs.

The tiny dots formed blisters two days later. Teddy’s fever broke, but now he was itching and miserable and crabby.

Mike played trucks. And watched cartoons. And read books. And played fish. He coated the kid with everything he had in the medicine cabinet to stop the itching.

When he heard the knock on the door, he wasn’t sure if it was Tuesday or Thursday, what month, what year. It was daylight. That’s all he was sure of.

He opened the door, squinted at the sudden sharp sunlight…saw Amanda. Well, mostly what he saw was her flaming hair and shocked expression.

“Holy kamoly. You look horrible. Why didn’t you call me? I was-”

He wasn’t coherent. Wasn’t going to be coherent again. Maybe ever. So he just blurted out what he needed to say. “I wasn’t trying to get you drunk.”

“I never thought you were.”

“I didn’t mean to be so…physical.”

“Of course you did. That’s you. You’ll always be more fantastic with action, especially that action-than talk. Chitchat isn’t your thing. No sweat.” She closed the door and took a long gander at his living area. “You are such a dimwit. Why didn’t you tell me you were in trouble?” Then she took an even longer gander at him. “You haven’t shaved. You look as if you haven’t slept. You look as if-”

“It’s been horrible,” he confirmed.

“Molly’s taking a nap. My mom came over to watch her for a couple hours. I needed to get out to the grocery store, and I came over to see if I could pick up anything for you two.” She raised her eyebrows. “No point in asking, I can see. It’s obvious you need everything. Let’s see how good you are at following orders.”

“What orders?”

By nightfall, Mike figured she was akin to a cyclone. They were at her house by then. The kids were in pajamas in front of the TV. Both had had oatmeal baths, rubdowns, a liberal application of calamine, then dressed in their pj’s. They’d gobbled down toasted cheese sandwiches, then lemonade, then small bowls of sorbet.

Nobody was crying. Nobody was whining. Both kids looked a pinch away from going to sleep for the night.

“I think,” Amanda said quietly, as she handed him a serious bowl of chili sprinkled with sour cream and melted cheddar, “that you and Teddy should take the spare room tonight. Molly can sleep in with me. My guess is that you really need a night’s sleep, and I can handle a round if the kids need someone in the night.”

She could handle both kids behind her back. And him. They’d stayed at his place until she’d transformed it. The dirty dishes went away. The Jell-O bowls disappeared. The heap of messy cutlery seemed to all fit in the washer. She’d stayed with Teddy while he showered and found clean clothes. Then she’d herded them to her place-kicked her mom out-and started in with the little ones. The baths, the cooking and feeding. The calm, no-nonsense orders. Even Slugger and Darling obeyed her. They were sacked out by their respective charges by the couch.

“I think that’s too much trouble for you,” he said.

“What’s the trouble? Both of us will end up losing sleep if we stay in separate houses. This way we can run relay for each other. Each get a solid stretch of sleep.”

She sounded totally reasonable, but Mike wanted time with her. Real time. Not time like this. He couldn’t guess what she was thinking or feeling-about him. About them.

But he caved about the sleepover, and when he settled Teddy in the upstairs room around eight o’clock that evening, Teddy begged him to sack out next to him. He did, for just a few minutes.

The next time he surfaced, Teddy was still sleeping soundly, and the wall clock claimed it was 6:00 a.m.

He’d slept ten solid hours.

And there was only one thing he wanted or needed-and that was to find Amanda.

Mike was quiet, descending the stairs, unsure if Amanda or Molly were sleeping-not wanting to wake either of them if they were still asleep. But when he glanced outside…there was a slim, white, unforgettable leg stretched out on a lawn chair.

The morning was cool, with a wispy mist dancing over the grass, hiding in and out of bushes. The sun had a beat of warmth, more promise than reality this early. She’d put a bowl of strawberries on the glass table, a carafe of coffee with a spare mug that he strongly suspected was for him. Both his dog and hers were snoozing at her feet.

She was wearing easy clothes, that kind of green she liked, in a loose, soft top paired with jeans. Her feet were bare. So was her face.

When he opened the door, she immediately looked up and smiled. Then motioned to the mug.

“I figured coffee might be the first thing you wanted.”

“That’s it,” he said firmly. “I love you forever. Don’t fight it. You’re going to have to marry me.”

“You know what? I was thinking the same thing.”

He almost sputtered on the first sip-when he was downright desperate for that caffeine. She clearly liked it that she so easily rattled him. She watched him sit in the chair next to hers, put a foot up before speaking.