She grins at me, triumphant. “Again!”
I shake my head, flicking water from my sleeve. “If you flood this place, we’re moving into a tent.”
She giggles and kicks her feet, making the rubber duck do an unnecessary backflip. Then, just as quickly, she goes quiet.
Her fingers trail absently over the edge of a floating boat. “Where’s Ivy?”
I shift, leaning my arm on the edge of the tub. “She’s still busy with work.”
Lucy frowns. “She was s’posed to come to yoga.” Lu wasn’t the only one who was disappointed when we received the text from Ivy that she had to skipclass this week. But she made sure we knew she hadn’t given up on yoga.
“She was,” I say, pulling out my phone. “But she still did some at home.” I open Ivy’s message and show her the proof—a blurry photo of Ivy mid-tree pose, in her living room, looking half-asleep but determined.
Lucy studies it with all the seriousness of a judge on one of those dance shows. “She’s still not very good.”
I snort. “No, she’s not. But she’s trying and that is all that matters.”
“She wobbles more than you.”
“Well, yeah, because I’ve been doing it a lot longer than her,” I say, nudging her gently. “She’s still learning.”
Lucy nods but doesn’t drop it. She leans her damp head against my arm, voice small. “When’s she coming back?”
I exhale slowly, reaching for the towel and wrapping it around her before scooping her up.
“Dunno,” I say, keeping it light. “Soon, probably.”
I carry Lucy out of the bathroom, her damp curls sticking to my shoulder as she cuddles up. I drop her down on her bed and she gently bounces on the mattress. Lu giggles rolling herself tighter into the towel.
“Can we call her?” she asks, tilting her head back to look at me, eyes hopeful.
I grab her pyjamas from the drawer and shake my head. “She’s probably still working, Ladybug. Let’s text her instead, yeah? Then she can reply when she’s free.”
She thinks it over, then nods. “Okay.”
I sit beside her on the bed and open the chat. Lu is peering at the screen like she can actually read it all.
Me
Lucy’s asking after you. Still surviving?
Lucy watches the screen with wide eyes, like she expects Ivy to burst out of it at any moment. A few seconds later, the little typing bubble appears.
Ivy
Barely. Work is hell. Also, I have a cold. Kill me now.
I wince. Yeah, definitely not reading that out loud.
Lucy tugs at my sleeve. “What did she say?”
I clear my throat, adjusting the message slightly as I read it aloud. “She says work is really busy and… she’s got a cold.”
Lucy gasps dramatically, clutching my arm. “She’s sick?”
I bite back a grin. “It’s just a cold, Lu. She’ll be fine.”
“But we have to help her!” she insists, wriggling into her pyjama bottoms with sudden urgency.
