Page 31 of You Fall First
That’s fourteen bedtimes. Forty-two meals. Hundreds of waking hours. A thousand viewings of Pixar movies. Not to mention ten days of work. I was prepared to ask my boss for a little more time off. But I can’t just disappear from Havenwood for … the foreseeable future.
The hollow space in my gut says we might have a problem.
Sometime around dawn, I must drift off again, because the next thing I’m conscious of is Dutton standing over the couch, tapping my shoulder. I scramble upright, rubbing the crust from my eyes. He’s clutching Bugs by one long ear. The rest of the rabbit droops toward the floor.
“Hey, bud. You awake?”
He blinks. Nods. Obviously.
My mouth is cottony and sour, and a headache’s already brewing behind my sinuses. Not a great beginning to this next stretch of caregiving. But I don’t have a choice, and I wouldn’t choose different if I could. I wasn’t there the last time my family needed me, and I still haven’t forgiven myself for that.
Right now, my sister trusts me with the most precious person in her life. I promised her Dutton would be safe and happy while he’s here. I can’t be sure about the happy part, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my nephew safe.
To be worthy of her trust.
“Is Mama home?” he asks in a small voice.
“Not yet, little man.”
“I want to FaceTime.”
“I think she’s sleeping,” I say. “But maybe later.”
Quick. Distraction. For both of us. “You want pancakes?”
He takes a beat, glances at the kitchen.
“And bacon?” I add.
Then comes the half smile. “Yes. Please.”
“You want blueberry pancakes? Or banana? Blueberries are my personal choice,” I say. “They’ve got lots of antioxidants.”
Dutton screws up his face.
“Antioxidants are good, bud.”
“No.”
“Banana?”
“No.”
“All right. Plain pancakes it is.”
I haul my body off the couch, bones and joints cracking as I move to the kitchen. I’m stiff and sore and completely unprepared to make anybody’s breakfast from scratch. But this is what I signed up for.
Dutton care.
To be fair, Paige was supposed to return tonight, and I have a job to do, one where a lot of people count on me. Havenwood is expecting their director of PT and OT back at work tomorrow.
So I hope we’re not looking at thirteen days and twenty-three more hours of full-time guardianship.
Otherwise, Uncle Noah might have to call in the cavalry.
Chapter Eight
Jo
