better, big guy.”
“Thanks. Come on, baby.”
“Can I get in your bed, too? Liam did.”
“Sure.”
She sent Beckett an apologetic look, then led her sick boy upstairs.
CHAPTER TEN
THE WEEKEND PASSED IN A BLUR OF SICKBEDS, SOUP, AND scrambled eggs. By Sunday morning, both Liam and Harry felt well enough to be bored and cranky. She’d thought her idea to make camp in the living room where the two boys could have each other and an assortment of books and DVDs for company inspired. But the novelty wore off as Harry, no longer feverish but still a bit peaked, also became thoroughly sick of his brothers.
She had to sympathize, as she was fairly sick of them herself.
She solved the last shouting match over which DVD to watch by walking in, picking up the remote, and switching off the TV.
“Mom!”
The single word blasted in three-part harmony.
“Since all you can do is bicker and complain about the movies, we’ll take a break from them.”
“Harry started it,” Liam began.
“I did not! You—”
“I don’t care who started it.” Sick kids or not, Clare pulled out the Mom Voice. “It appears I’ve finished it. Now you can all stay here and read, or color, or play quietly with your toys. Or you can go to your room and sulk. And if you argue with me,” she said anticipating, “all the DVDs go away until next weekend.”
“It’s his fault,” Liam said under his breath.
“Liam Edward Brewster, you’re on notice. Not another word.”
His eyes filled, tears and temper. She felt a little like a crying jag herself. “Now I want everyone to be quiet for ten minutes.”
“Mom.”
“Harry,” she said with a warning note in her voice.
“I’m hungry. I want my soup.”
Getting his appetite back was a good sign. However. “Harry, I told you, we’re out. Marmie and Granddad are bringing more.”
“But I’m hungry now.”
“I can fix you something else. I have Chicken Noodle or Alphabet soup.”
“I don’t want those. I want Chicken and Stars.”
“Then you have to wait. They’ll be here soon.”
“Why can’t they be here now?” Fatigue and sheer pissyness turned his voice into a whiny toddler’s.
Feeling her patience fray, Clare reminded herself how pale and pitiful he’d looked the night before. “They’ll be here soon. It’s the best I can do, Harry. Ten minutes of quiet now. I have to check the laundry.”
She figured she’d be lucky to get five minutes of quiet, and didn’t rate that as Murphy followed her into the kitchen.
“I’m hungry, too. I want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
“Honey, we’re out of bread. More’s coming.”
“How come we don’t have anything I want?”
“Because your brothers got sick, ate all the eggs, bread, and soup, and I couldn’t go to the store yesterday.”
“Why?”
“Because Harry and Liam got sick.” While her head began to throb, she dumped the load of dry sheets in the basket.
“If they get to stay home from school tomorrow, I’m staying home, too.”
“First, you don’t get to decide. I do. And, no, you’re not staying home tomorrow, and as neither of them has a fever, odds are they’re not staying home either.”
Please God, have pity on me.
“Nobody’ll play with me.”
“Murphy, I played games with you half the morning.”
“With all of us. Why can’t you play with just me?”
She closed her eyes until the urge to snap passed. She got it, she really did, and she tried hard to give each of them some one-on-one time. But God, not now.
“Why don’t you get your Power Rangers? You can play upstairs while I make the beds.”
“You have to play with me.”
“No, I don’t. And while I might like to, I don’t have time. Why, you ask?” she continued, knowing he would have if given half a chance. “Because I have to do the rest of the laundry I didn’t get to yesterday because I was taking care of Liam and Harry. I have to put clean sheets on the beds, which I didn’t get to yesterday either, which is just as well as Harry got sick on his in the middle of the night. Would you like the list of everything else I have to do today?”
“Okay.”
She stopped, rubbed her hands over her face, and laughed. “Murphy, you kill me.”
“Don’t get killed.”
“It’s just an expression.” She leaned down, gave him a hug mostly because she really needed one.
“Can we get a puppy?”
Done in, she just dropped her head on his little shoulder. “Oh, Murphy.”
“Harry and Liam would feel better if we had a puppy. My new best, best, best, best friend in school Jeremy