“You are.” Steel bled into Arden’s voice. “Not everyone puts their kid before themselves. You do.” With that, she turned on her heel and left.
I couldn’t help but wonder about Arden’s story.
A handgently landed on my shoulder, and my eyes jerked open. “Wha?—?”
“It’s just me,” Cope said.
I blinked against the dim light in Luca’s room. The small clock on his nightstand read 3:15 in the morning. I stood from the overstuffed chair and crossed to the bed to grab the thermometer. Luca’s cheeks were still pink but not that angry red color anymore. I hoped that meant the fever had gone down.
After one more puking session, we managed to get some Tylenol in him. The thermometer beeped. 100.5 degrees. Better.
“That’s good, right?” Cope asked, the concern still clear in his voice.
I nodded, my eyes burning. “It’s good. We just have to stay on top of the meds now. He can take more in two hours.”
“Then you can get a little sleep.” Cope took my hand to lead me out of the room, but I shook my head.
“No. I want to stay here.”
“Sutton.” Cope pinned me with an I-mean-business stare. “You won’t be any use to Luca if you’re wrecked. You’re still recovering from your injuries.”
“I’m not. I?—”
“You may feel better, but your body’s not 100 percent,” Cope argued.
I had to admit that I felt a little loopy. Between the long day at the bakery, the run-in with Evelyn, the dog, and Luca’s tour du barfing,I was exhausted. “All right,” I muttered, turning back to Cope. “But I need to set an alarm to give Luca his next dose.”
Cope frowned at me, his eyes zeroing in on my face. “Give me that thermometer.”
“Why?”
He snatched it from my hand, pointed it at my forehead, and pressed the button.
“Cope, I’m fine.”
“You’re flushed,” he clipped. A second later, the thermometer beeped. “One hundred and one. Into bed with you.”
“It has to be wrong. I—” I turned to grab the thermometer back, and a wave of dizziness hit me. Fast on its heels was the overwhelming nausea. “Uh-oh.” I bolted for the bathroom.
38
COPE
Luca giggledas I stepped through the open door. “What are you wearing?”
He was still a little flushed and sleeping more than usual, but he’d certainly turned a corner. He’d spent most of the day playing video games and asking when Gretzky could come back from Arden’s.
I made a show of snapping my long rubber glove and adjusting the doctor’s mask and ski goggles on my face. “There’s only one person who hasn’t fallen, and I’m doing whatever it takes to stay barf-free.”
Luca sent a baleful look at the bowl next to him on the bed. “You’re smart. Getting the pukes is theworst.”
He was right there. And I was throwing that bowl in the trash as soon as Luca was out of the woods. Hell, I was having this whole house decontaminated. “Did you finish your soup?”
Luca nodded. “And the bread and ginger ale. Think I can have real food next?”
I chuckled but didn’t miss the feeling of relief running through me. Luca was so small. Seeing him that sick had scared the hell out of me. But more than that, it made me realize just how much he meantto me. “My mom says mashed potatoes are the next step after soup and dry toast.”
Mom and Lolli had shown up that morning with a massive container of chicken noodle soup. Lolli had tried to make a case for the fact that cannabis was used to treat pediatric cancer patients’ nausea so she could make a little something for Luca. Mom had just gaped at her. I told Lolli that I really didn’t feel like getting murdered when Sutton came out of her flu state and realized I’d given her kid drugs.
