Back to You(59)

Her heart leapt into her throat when finally, he moved toward her. It was the tiniest movement, but she noticed it nonetheless.
“Lauren,” he said, his voice gentle, and suddenly it was like someone dumped a bucket of water over her head. She jerked back slightly, her eyes widening.
“I think she’s asleep,” she said, looking everywhere but him as she fumbled to stand up. “I…I, um…should probably go.”
She stood quickly, her movements uncoordinated, and he moved back to his original position, his eyes on the floor.
“Yeah, you should go,” he said, running a hand through his hair and nodding, like he had just convinced himself that what he was saying was true.
Lauren hurried into the kitchen and grabbed her purse, concentrating on slowing her breath. She needed to get the hell out of there. Quickly.
No sooner than she had her purse in her hands, she heard the soft cry. “I don’t feel good. I need the bucket!”
Lauren rushed back to the living room just in time to see Michael jump up and grab the bucket. He held it in front of Erin as she retched over it, missing the bucket slightly and getting some on Michael’s hands and the floor.
She put her purse down and turned toward the kitchen, gathering some paper towels and wetting some. By the time she came back into the living room, it was over, and Michael was speaking in soft, reassuring tones to Erin as she laid back down on the couch.
Lauren knelt beside him, using the wet paper towels to wipe his hands, and he glanced over at her. “Thank you,” he said softly, and she nodded, looking away from him to start wiping the floor.
Once everything was cleaned, Lauren went into the kitchen to dispose of the dirtied towels while Michael went to the bathroom to wash out the pail. When they both returned, Erin was sitting up on the couch. She looked exhausted, but marginally better. “I’m thirsty,” she said, her tiny voice raspy, and Michael looked over at Lauren.
“Pedialyte?” he asked, and Lauren nodded.
She walked with him into the kitchen, grabbing a cup while he took the bottle out of the bag and read the directions on the back.
“Put that in the fridge after you open it,” Lauren said. “And only a little at a time, or it will just come right back up.”
He nodded, screwing the cap off and pouring about an inch into the cup that Lauren held out. As she brought it out to Erin, she heard the sounds of him putting the bottle in the fridge.
“Here you go sweetheart,” Lauren said, sitting on the couch beside her. “Little sips, okay?”
Erin nodded, holding the cup in two shaky hands as she brought it to her lips, taking bird-like sips, and Lauren ran her hand soothingly over Erin’s hair.
Michael entered the living room, kneeling on the floor in front of his daughter. “How’s that?” he asked gently.he corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. , le
“Good,” she said, resting the cup on her thigh. “Daddy?”
“Hmm?” he hummed, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Can we watch the pony movie?”
He smiled. “Sure,” he said, standing from his spot and turning toward the television, and just as Lauren went to stand, Erin reached over and clasped her hand.
“You can be the pink pony, and I’ll be the purple one,” she said.
Lauren smiled softly at her before she glanced over at the front door, at her salvation. With a resigned sigh, she sat back against the couch, rubbing the back of Erin’s hand with her thumb.
After hitting play, Michael returned to the couch, sitting on the other side of Erin, and she laid down across them, putting her head in her father’s lap and her legs across the top of Lauren’s thighs. Michael glanced down at her and smiled before he looked over at Lauren.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.
She had no idea if he was referring to the fact that she was forced to stay and watch the movie, or what had just transpired between them, but she nodded.
“It’s okay,” she mouthed back, and he smiled softly before turning his attention back to the movie.
For the next hour, they watched the pony movie, and eventually Lauren found herself starting to nod. The first few times, her eyes would snap open, and she’d shift on the couch, trying to refocus on the cartoon movie about magical flying horses. But at some point, that method must have stopped working, because the next thing she knew, she felt something softly brushing against her cheek.
She opened her eyes slowly, blinking against her blurred vision. The television was off, and the room was almost completely dark now.
“Hey,” Michael whispered, brushing his hand against her cheek.
“Michael?” she rasped, sitting up slightly. She could just make out his features in the darkness as her eyes finally adjusted; he was leaning over her, his face mere inches from hers. “What time is it?”