The man nods in understanding. “Being there, taking care of her, making sure she’s not going through it alone…that means more than you realize.”
His words calm and ease the tension slowly building inside me. I’m not used to feeling this helpless. It’s much easier to control things while I’m on ice. But here with Haisley? All I can do is watch and try to make things easier where I can.
I glance down at my basket and then back at him. “What else worked for your wife other than all of this?”
He scratches his jaw. “It was mostly trial and error. But my wife swore by cold apple slices and chicken noodle soup.”
“Apples and chicken noodle soup. Got it.”
“Good luck, son,” he gives my shoulder a fatherly squeeze. “You’re doing better than you think.”
As he walks off, I stand there, letting his words settle. Then I turn, grab a bag of apples, and head toward the other section for soup ingredients.
Maybe none of this will help, or maybe one thing will make a difference.
Either way, I’ll keep trying. Because that’s all I can do.
I’m in the grocery store parking lot, ready to head back to cabin with bags of supplies in the backseat, when my phone buzzes. Haisley’s name lights up the screen, along with the photo I snapped of her yesterday.
I swipe to answer and put her on speaker. “Hey, everything okay?”
“Where did you go?” Her groggy voice comes through.
“Just ran to the store to stock up. Didn’t you see the note I left?”
She lets out a tired sound that is caught between a laugh and a sigh. “Seems like missing notes is becoming our thing.”
“I’ll use a neon highlighter next time,” I offer, trying to keep the conversation light. “Or maybe tattoo it to your arm.”
That earns me the softest hum of amusement. Not quite a laugh, but close.
“You hanging in there?” I ask, my tone softening.
“I could be better. But it’s not as bad as last night.”
“Good. Not great, but good. I picked up a few things that might help.”
“You didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”
“It’s not trouble looking after you,” I tell her earnestly. “I hated seeing you like that. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I felt so fucking useless. So, if anything I bought helps, that’s a win in my book.”
“You were anything but useless, Rasmus.”
“Are you kidding me? I sat outside the door like a glorified search engine,” I say with a dry laugh. “I was trying my best to figure out what helps and what doesn’t. Half the sites contradicted each other, so it didn’t help.”
“Still,” she murmurs, her voice laced with sleep. “You were there.”
I close my eyes for a second. “You want me to head back now? I can be there in under fifteen minutes.”
“No, take your time. I think I’ll try to sleep a bit more. Hopefully the nausea eases up, so I can enjoy food later.”
“Alright. I’ll sneak in quiet as a church mouse.”
My choice of words makes her chuckle. “You’re being really sweet.”
“I want you to feel better, so I don’t have to worry about you or our little Meatball.”
“You being there already helps more than you know.”
