the girls. Maddy sits as close to her door as she possibly can, but she clutches a clean trash bag in her hand. Abby’s staring woodenly out the window, her face pale.
As soon as I park in the driveway, Abby heaves into her bag. I rush out of the car and open the back door. I catch Maddy’s wide eyes. “Go inside and let Mom know we’re here.”
She nods and scurries off, forgetting to shut her door. I unbuckle Abby. She’s retching and trying to catch her breath.
“It’s okay, honey. I’ll carry you in.” I lift her out and adjust her slight weight. Natalie’s behind me when I turn.
“There’s a bath waiting for her and a laundry basket outside the door for her clothes.” She wrinkles her nose. “And your clothes.”
I smell like puke. My car smells like puke. My office will smell like puke until the morning. “Do you mind grabbing my gym bag? I’ll shower and change.”
She does as I ask and closes and locks the car. Inside, we work as a team. She undresses Abby and I strip down and take our dirty laundry downstairs, including Maddy’s, who’s already in pajamas and snuggled into bed.
I tuck my suit in a bag to go to the cleaners and start the washer. By the time I’m upstairs, Natalie’s getting Abby out of the tub.
“Can I use your shower?” I call from outside the cracked open door.
“Go ahead.”
I want to tuck both girls in, even if Maddy’s already asleep, but I don’t want to leave the lingering smell of vomit in their room.
Running through the shower, I use the products that remind me of my wife and how much I love her smell. The towel I use is achingly familiar. I bought some cheap towels when I first moved, lacking any sense whatsoever of what makes a good towel.
I’m back in my shower, in my house, with sick kids. The sense of normalcy sneaks in like a siren’s call I’d gladly steer my ship toward. Only it’s temporary.
Dressed in my gym shorts and a T-shirt, I go out to the living room. Natalie’s perched on the edge of the couch, scrolling through her phone. Her hair is unbound and in a messy halo. She’s got color in her face from spending time outdoors.
The picture of her in her swimsuit has been stuck in my head all week. I’m confident I’ve never seen that suit. Nothing could distract me from the sight of her in it. Pale pink top and striped yellow and pink bottoms. Every freckle scattered over her shoulders has been long seared into my memory.
Will this wanting ever end? If she’s done with me, it’s the cruelest punishment, but one I’m willing to bear. I haven’t given up on her, on us, but she needs more time than I thought. It’s only been weeks, but it’s enough to make me wonder if I’m on a fool’s mission. The only one not to know it’s doomed for failure.
“Are they awake?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Maddy’s out and Abby was asleep by the time I got back with the puke bucket.” The old silver basin that we scavenged while cleaning out her grandma’s place after the funeral is the designated puke bucket.
“I’m glad we came here. I don’t think I’m prepared with even one bucket.”
She smiles. “Good thing you had a gym bag.”
I shove my hand through my wet hair. The living room clock says it’s almost ten. “I should get going. Let you get some rest.”
She waves toward the guest room across from the girls’ room. “Go ahead and stay. They’d be gutted to miss their weekend with you.”
“You mind? I’d hate to miss my weekend with them too.” I mean it. I had a weekend full of activities that they’ve already done over the years but that they never seem to tire of. The splash pad, and the place that’s like a science center and a playroom had a baby, and of course the zoo because there’s at least one stuffed animal I haven’t bought for them.
Speaking of which. “If they’re feeling better tomorrow, I can take them back to my place. Or I’ll go grab their things.”
“Maddy didn’t mention Pink Kitty, so she must’ve been tired.”
I stand for a moment. Natalie looks around the living room. I felt like I was back at home in the bathroom, but now I’m a fish floundering onshore. “’Night, Natalie.”
The corner of her mouth hitches up. “Goodnight, Simon.”
I trudge up