Part 26 (2/2)

Time pa.s.sed. Minutes probably as she drifted into the dream where there was a male voice murmuring and a male presence moving about the small house. Occasionally a note of a child's voice would spike through her slumber, but that couldn't be real either, because there was no one home to take that responsible shh-shh tone of voice. She allowed herself to fall into sleep because she knew she needed her strength. And because she knew that her kids would make a riot if Mom was really needed. They only had her.

Then a new sound poked her into wakefulness. Baby Russ was retching again, and her hands registered he wasn't with her. And that his bowl still lay in her lap. What?

Tess lurched from her sprawl on the couch. Her eyes opened as she stood and there was a figure in front of her. She blinked a few times to put it into focus. Her husband. David. He was holding her baby.

She might think it was still a dream, but little Russ's body was moving, undulating in that way- ”The bowl,” she said, holding it out.

But David ignored her, murmuring to their baby and cradling him close as their smallest son puked all over David's favorite high-tech, fancy-fiber, sweat-wicking spin s.h.i.+rt.

She stared. ”The bowl.”

”It's all right. He's not so scared when I'm holding him like this.”

Another moment pa.s.sed, then she heard sounds from her bedroom. With her hand on one wall, she made her way to her other sons. Looking more bright-eyed, Duncan and Oliver were propped up on pillows and watching cartoons on the flat-screen TV across the room. Each had a gla.s.s of what looked to be water in hand, a bent straw ready for a small mouth.

Oliver noticed her, sketched a wave. ”Mommy.”

She echoed the movement. ”Sweet boy.”

Duncan sipped his water and then glanced over. ”Daddy's home.”

”I see that,” she said. Then a wave of sickness slammed into her, and she ran for relief.

Bout over, she checked in on Rebecca. There was a gla.s.s of water and a bent straw beside her cell phone. The teenager was sleeping. The sound of a shower running drew her to the end of the hall. Through the half-open door, she saw her husband holding her youngest in the shower, both of them fully dressed.

”What are you doing?” she croaked out. But she realized he couldn't hear her over the rus.h.i.+ng water and his own crooning voice as he sang to their son.

”*Hush little baby don't say a word, Daddy's goin' to buy you a mockingbird.'” David had sung to all their children when they were small. A story, a song, and then good-night. Once Rebecca had begged for ”A Hundred Bottles of Root Beer on the Wall,” and she'd made it to twenty-seven remaining before dozing off. He'd never fallen for that again.

Watching him now, Tess was absolutely positive she'd never fall for anyone else besides him.

She pushed open the door the whole way as he stepped onto the bath mat in his dripping clothes. ”Give me Russ,” she said, reaching for a towel.

David shook his head and took the terry cloth out of her hand. ”I've got him.”

With her energy at an all-time low, she could only watch as he stripped himself and the baby out of their wet clothes. Then, with a towel around his waist, he found the boys' room and quickly diapered Russ and put him in a soft onesie. Russ's eyes closed. Tess watched from the doorway. ”He's almost asleep. You can put him in the crib.”

”Think I'll hold him awhile,” David said over his shoulder. ”You're almost asleep too. Go lie down.”

The suggestion was nearly irresistible. Nearly. ”You'll stay with the kids?”

He hesitated. ”I'm staying with all of you. Always.”

It was enough to get her moving in the direction of an empty bed, even though the stranger of the past few months wasn't a man she'd want with them for always. If that was who was in the house, then once she was better, he'd just have to leave again.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

IT WAS EVENING and the kids had all kept down water, chicken noodle soup and soda crackers for hours by the time David saw his wife peek into the living room where the older boys and Rebecca were crowded together watching a Disney movie. He'd had time to dry his clothes, and though he was holding Russ again, he managed to pour her a mug of the soup he'd kept warm. ”Drink this,” he said, crossing to her, ”and then go take a shower.”

”Thank you.” Her hand trembled a little as she reached for it.

Seeing her like this made him want to kick his own a.s.s all over again. In using distance to try to save himself, he'd allowed Tess to get overtired and sick. If Griffin hadn't called him...

His wife took a tentative sip from the mug, then seemed to think it was going to stay down and so took another. ”Rebecca, are you kids okay?”

”Yeah.” She didn't take her gaze from the screen. ”Daddy handled things.”

Tess glanced over at him, her expression unreadable. ”Will you be all right with Russ while I take a shower?”

”Yes.” That she felt she had to ask twisted his gut. ”Take your time.”

When she next appeared in the living room, the four kids were in bed asleep. Tess's hair was still slightly damp, and she was dressed in a pair of plaid flannel pants and a sweats.h.i.+rt proclaiming Happy Mom from Eaglewood Elementary. There was a little more color in her cheeks, but her blue eyes still stood out too brightly against her pale features.

He reached in the oven. ”Hungry? I made mac and cheese.”

Her gaze jumped to his. ”You made your mom's mac and cheese?”

”My specialty.” He smiled a little. ”That and hot dogs.”

She sat gingerly in a chair at the kitchen table, as if maybe her bones hurt. As he placed a plate and gla.s.s of water in front of her, he wanted to lift her from its hard surface and cuddle her on his lap, whispering promises that he would always cus.h.i.+on her, that he would always be what she needed.

But when he'd shown her the cus.h.i.+on of their financial situation, she'd thrown it back in his face. And as to always being what she needed...if he'd done that she wouldn't be sitting in that chair, s.h.i.+vering.

”I'll light a fire,” he said, though the pressed-sawdust log wouldn't give off much heat. On his way back toward the kitchen alcove, he grabbed a small blanket hanging over the arm of the sofa. He draped it over her shoulders while she sat staring at the steaming mound of pasta.

”Would you rather I put it away?” he asked. ”I can make you something else.”

She shook her head and managed to eat a few bites. Then she downed the entire gla.s.s of water. It revived her a little, and when he thought she was through, he encouraged her to stretch out on the sofa.

He tucked the blanket around her.

”Thank you,” she said.

So polite again. He sat on the coffee table in front of her, his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling between them. Now that they had privacy and time, he couldn't seem to get his tongue to wrap around the words he'd been planning since walking into the house and finding his family looking like ghosts.

Tess pushed at her hair, her wary gaze on him. ”David-”

”Come home.” The words burst from his mouth. ”Please, come home. I'll step up. Change more diapers. Make more mac and cheese. When Russ wakes up in the night, I'll get up with him.”

”He sleeps through the night, now. He's slept through the night for months.”

”I knew that.” Not exactly. ”I just meant...if he has nightmares or...” David looked away, scrubbed a hand through his hair, faced his wife again. ”I'll do just about anything to have you all home again.”

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